Saving a Lot of Data: The Pokémon Soul Silver Parody
by SilverGate555
Summary: We always made the player character write down in a diary to save data. Now it's time to invade their privacy and see what exactly they were writing in that thing.
1. Let's Begin

**Let's Begin**

Chapter One

I started my Pokémon journey today. But until I get there, I have to describe everything that happened this morning, because that's how everybody who writes in first person starts with.

Yeah, I woke up in my room. I have a Wii in my room. I live in Johto, and our Wiis are huge. So naturally, it takes up a lot of space. It's not connected to my television either, so it's pretty much useless. On it I have one of those Italian Lucario games or whatever.

I hate my Wii.

I also have a computer. I can check my email on it, but that's pretty much it. I have only one friend, Ethan. He's my annoying neighbor, and the only person who emails me.

Today, when I read my email, I saw that he wrote, "ADVENTURE! EXCITED! I love POKéMON!" I tried to delete it, but I couldn't.

I hate my computer too.

In my room, I also have a clock with the wrong time, a plant that does nothing, a window you can't see anything through, and a bed that's way too small for me. There is a blue rug with stains.

I hate my room in general. But that's pretty much it with my room, because there really isn't anything else noteworthy in there.

When I woke up, the first thing I did was watch television. The television is the best thing about my room, but today the only thing they showed was that Professor Maple guy from Kanto. Lame.

I turned off the television and went downstairs.

"Hi, Lyra!" Mom greeted me. "You're finally awake. While you were sleeping late again, your friend Ethan was running around and getting some exercise in. In fact, he was just here."

I inwardly moaned. Ethan is under the assumption that him and me are friends, and has somehow transferred this assumption to everybody else. So I'm stuck with him.

My mom continued. "He was playing hide-and-seek with his Marill."

I inwardly moaned again. Ethan is even more annoying because of his Marill, which is this fluffy blue mouse that keeps hopping everywhere. That thing isn't even in control. Ethan has to run around trying to chase the damn thing all day. Strangely, Ethan finds it fun.

Mom's eyes widened. "Oh! I almost forgot! Our acquaintance, Professor Elm, was looking for you. He said he had a favor to ask of you. You know where the lab is, right?"

"Yeah._ It's right next door._"

"I'm so proud of you! By the way, do you have everything you need to go out? Here, use this bag to carry things…"

I didn't really see why I would need a bag, but whatever. That could work.

"Here's your Trainer Card…"

I didn't see why I would need that either, seeing that I didn't even have a Pokémon, but again, anything goes. Mom makes the rules.

"Here's a diary…"

Yes, the very diary I am using and writing on right now. Again, I don't know why she gave it then, but I took it anyways. Don't mess with Mom.

"These are all rather helpful…" Mom muttered. I decided not to object just then.

"Mom, can I have breakfast?" I asked.

She glared at me. "Go help the professor. You've already slept late enough. Don't keep him waiting."

I left the house for the lab, but then the dumb Maril came to me. Stupid, stupid thing. I tried to keep calm and ignore it. Thankfully, his insane owner gestured him to leave me alone. Also thankfully, Ethan didn't realize it was me his Maril stopped. If he did, he would have been chatting non-stop.

The weather was really windy, but it was okay. The only thing covering most of my legs was my long socks, but I dealt with it. The town I live in, New Bark Town, is really small. I think it has only ten people in it at most. So I already know everybody. But when I headed towards the lab, I saw this weird redheaded girl peering through the windows. I swear I'd never seen her before. She was pretty creepy. She was so intent on staring and being creepy, her nose was touching the windows. I thought that maybe she was a thief, but I ditched the idea because she had to be the most unsubtle thief ever. Maybe she was an amateur stalker.

I went over to her, to tell her to knock it off.

"So here's the famous Elm Pokémon Lab…" she, no HE muttered. (Oops. When the stalker spoke, it turned out to be a guy.)

Then she, no wait HE, noticed me. "What are you looking at?" asked the hypocrite.

"You," I told him. At least I was honest.

She He (ugh, I keep mixing them up, stupid English) pushed me and kicked me out of his creeping place. Geez, no need to get physical here. I made a mental note to inform the professor that a horrible stalker was at his window.

I went inside the lab, and there was some song that sounded like winter holiday music blasting through the speakers. Unfortunately, it's summertime, so the music didn't really fit the mood.

"Hi, Lyra!" said Professor Elm. "I've been waiting for you!"

"I know. My mom said. Sorry that I slept late."

"No worries! Do you know anything about my research? As you know, Pokémon are carried around in Poké Balls these days. But before the Poké Ball was invented, people used to walk with Pokémon. Just like your friend Ethan does!"

I couldn't help making a face. Ethan is obnoxious enough, with him and his loud jumpy Maril all over the place. I couldn't imagine a whole goddamn world full of it.

Professor Elm continued. "Poké Balls are wonderful because you can catch many Pokémon. But walking with Pokémon must have many advantages. It could have something to do with how Pokémon grow or evolve…so I'm going to give you a Pokémon!"

My eyes widened. Did he just imply that…?

_What?_

Professor Elm smiled at me. "Can you walk beside this Pokémon, outside of its Poké Ball, to see if this brings any special feelings or bonds between Pokémon and people?"

"Hell-"

I was interrupted by a beeping sound that was heard from his computer. He rushed to it. "Oh my god! I got an email!"

After that, he muttered a bunch of random crap.

Then he turned to me. "Look, I have this acquaintance that everybody calls Mr. Pokémon. He keeps finding weird things, and then is always bothering us about his discoveries."

"He sounds like a...interesting person."

Professor Elm cleared his throat. "Well, anyway, I just got an email from him saying that this time it's real. I bet it's another Pokémon Egg, but we're kind of busy here. Can I count on you to go in our place?" He gestured to a machine that contained three Poké Balls. "You can choose a Pokémon there."

Fine, fine, whatever. I went over to the machine.

One of them contained some weird thing called a Totodile. It looked like something that would bite me later. I shivered and placed it back.

The other one had some flames coming from its butt. It looked like it would burn me. I placed it back.

The other one had a plant on its head. I expect that it required extra care, because I was supposed to water it. I placed it back.

Wait, that was all of them. And they were all horrible.

I went back to Professor Elm empty handed. "Is there anything else?"

He shook his head. Shit. I went back.

I stared at the Poké Balls. I figured that if I kept the one with the fire butt at a safe distance away, I won't get hurt. So I took it.

The Poké Ball exploded in my hands. I screamed as the Fire Butt Pokémon landed next to me. I was cross, and it was cross too. It appeared to have been sleeping when I dropped it.

Immediately, I felt a searing bond of friendship between the two of us. He isn't the only one who hates being wakened up.

I walked back to Professor Elm, Fire Butt sleepily toddling behind me.

Professor Elm beamed. "It feels nice walking with your Pokémon, doesn't it?"

I shrugged. "I guess." Next to me, Fire Butt choked on some fire.

Then Professor Elm explained where Mr. Pokémon's house was. After that, I started to head outside.

A guy in one of those science-y lab coats stopped me. "Lyra, I want you to have this."

He gave me some Potions. I examined them while nodding wisely. "Cool."

"Pokémon are weak in the beginning," he explained. "Don't be too hesitate to use one of them if yours is in danger."

I smiled and thanked him. Then I went outside.

Immediately I cursed.

A very familiar Maril got excited and went in circles around his owner.

Ethan smiled. "Lyra!" He craned his neck to look behind me. "So, the Pokémon you picked…is a Cyndaquil!"

I looked at Fire Butt. "So that's your real name?"

Fire Butt simply stared back at me. Then he burped.

"Well, that's a cute Pokémon you have there!" Ethan exclaimed.

I scowled. "I just got him. Don't make his ego big yet."

Ethan made a nervous laugh. "Well, okay. But you know, if you walk with it, it'll become more friendly in time. You should try turning around and talking to it sometimes, too."

Why am I getting pet owner lessons from this guy? If anything, he's an example of what not to do.

Ethan snapped his fingers. "Oh! Why don't you show it to your mom?"

Well, why the hell wouldn't I?

"Goodbye, Ethan."

"Okay! See ya!" he replied happily, starting for his house. His damn Marill followed him, then abruptly turned to me and Fire Butt to give us some farewell hops. Fire Butt yawned.

It's hard to believe that I tried to take Ethan's advice, but I turned to Fire Butt and actually tried to connect with him.

"So, how are you?'

He seemed to like the breeze.

"Um, okay. But pay attention to me while I'm talking to you, okay?"

Fire Butt seemed to be staring at the sky.

"Geez, how's it going to be in Pokémon battles if you can't pay attention to me now?"

Fire Butt started to stare at me intently. He was making me nervous, so I figured that we had enough bonding time for today.

I was thinking so much about everything that happened, I went into Ethan's home on accident. It was really annoying. Ethan's dad automatically thought that I came to play with Ethan, so I was led into Ethan's room and I forced to watch Fire Butt and Marill play together while Ethan gave me lectures on Pokémon care. I tried to gesture to Fire Butt that Marill is his ultimate rival, but he didn't seem to take the hints. Finally, I managed to get Fire Butt blindfolded, and I got him out of Ethan's house by shoving him with a broom. I felt bad, but he had to learn sooner or later. Also, I was scared of doing anything else in fear of being burned.

I went back home from there. On the way back, I saw the guy from earlier still stalking Professor Elm from the window. Whatever. By now, Professor Elm probably had already seen him. That idiot was making no effort to be concealed and professional.

At home, Mom was sitting on one of the mats, staring at the kitchen table for no reason at all.

"Hey, Mom?"

She blinked and looked up. "You came back. Oh, Professor Elm gave you that Pokémon? It's cute. What's it's name?"

I thought that I should give Fire Butt a more respectable name, so I said I named it Cinder.

Mom nodded. She didn't act shocked at all about my Pokémon. I bet she planned it all from the start. So she gave me my Pokégear, which just got back from the Repair shop (Marill sat on it a while back, long story), and then pretty much told me to get out. I took the hints. I got out.

I took a deep breath and headed out for Route 29. This was the first time I left my town without an adult. Probably a first time for Fire Butt (NO!) Cinder, too. And the first time we set out together, the first time in maybe a hundred times. We looked at each other, trainer and Pokémon. The breeze urged us forward, and I nodded. Then we both went for the very first step…

Professor Elm burst out of his lab. "Wait one second!"

Nevermind. Moment ruined.

Professor Elm walked to me. "I almost completely forgot about this…"

"Yeah?"

I expected it to be something really important, to spoil such a good moment.

"Here, I'll give you my number."

Shit.

I handed him my Pokégear gloomily. He gave it back after doing some beeps and stuff. I don't know, I don't really use that thing often.

"I'll call you if something comes up," he told me. Then he left.

Okay then.

I went into Route 29, but frankly, the feeling was more of irritation than triumph by then.


	2. This is Kind of Fun

This diary business is strangely enjoyable. I thought it was only for popular girls to write all of the school gossip down, but I guess that this thing has a place for me too. To me, what's the most unexpected is that I don't even have a crush yet, but I've already written like maybe, two pages. I can feel my previously hidden writing skills already progressing!

Anyways.

I started the day by heading to Cherrygrove City. From there, I had to go south (or maybe west?)to get to Mr. Pokémon's house. I actually kind of forgot, but then I figured that I may as well wing it anyways. If anything happens, I can always call the police.

When I arrived at Cherrygrove City, this old guy at the gate thought I was a rookie and started to show me around. It was completely unnecessary. The PokéMart and the Pokémon Center both had the huge picture of a Pokéball on them, so it would be pretty hard to mistake them for the regular reststop bathroom. The guide himself would've been horrible if I actually needed help, because he kept sprinting all over the place like he was an aspiring Olympian. My shouts to slow down and protests that I didn't need a tour of the small little town fell on old, deaf ears.

I guess he pitied me, so he randomly gave me a pair of running shoes after the tour. It was really weird. Then he told me they were brand new, which made me even more suspicious. Still, he seemed to be a horrible liar, and they seemed better to wear than my regular stuff, so I just got them on and told myself to not feel guilty.

I looked around Cherrygrove City, but I wasn't lying when I wrote before that it was a small little town and was a poor excuse for a city. There is like, only three or four houses in the entire place. It wasn't much better than New Bark Town. I got bored of it quick so after taking Cinder to the Pokémon Center I got the hell out of there.

"Wait!"

The old guy from earlier ran up to me. For somebody who apparently runs on a typical basis, he seemed pretty bent of shape when he finally came up to me. He hurriedly asked for my Pokégear. I gave it to him with a sigh. I don't really care too much about the damn thing, but I don't really want it to be crowded with phone numbers by the time I come back to New Bark.

It turns out that what he did was install the Town map app. The old man explained how to use it, then wished me luck and ran off before I could mumble a "thanks." I wonder why he's always rushing around like he needs to use the bathroom.

Well, whatever. Onward I went.

Route 30 felt great. By then, it was evening. The sunset made everything look orange and nice, and made me somehow cheerful to get back on the hike. Cinder seemed to be get pretty excited too. It's hard to tell, but I believe that coughing out flames signals happiness in that one.

I turned to him. "So, Cinder! How are you doing?"

He hopped in utter happiness. It wasn't as obnoxious like Marill's, either. Then he walked in front of me.

I shook my head. "Just get back in line. You can't lead. You're too short, so I'll trip on you."

Cinder seemed pretty disappointed, but he obeyed me. My common sense rules even in his little mind.

Then a small brown birdie jumped out of the tall grass. It was super annoying. Cinder's tackle attacks kept missing, which plain wasn't fair since tackle was the only attacking move he knew. Whenever Cinder actually got his aiming right, the damage was minimal.

I knew that there had to be a different strategy to use to win, so I had did the only thing I could do. I had Cinder glare at the bird so hard, the bird pooped in the grass and had its defense lowered from sheer, patronizing fear. Cinder did it a bunch of times, and then finally launched a single attack that KO'd the stupid bird. I was so proud of Cinder I gave him a potion (although I guess I kind of had to, since he seemed close to collapsing). He made a face from swallowing it down for the first time, but I explained that they were in only in grape flavor and he had no other choices.

I came by a house on the way. There was a weird little tree with a light green ball in it. It seemed like some rude person threw it there and never took it out, so I went inside the guy's house to tell him about it. I probably should've knocked, but I kind of forgot to after being away from society so long during the summer.

Not that the guy who lived there cared at all.

"People usually come here looking for Mr. Pokémon's house," he said. "You _did _mean to visit my house, right?'

"Uh, yeah."

I thought that the guy was about to throw a party at that answer. He started to tell me all about Apricorn trees, and Apricorns, and I was like, "what?"

Then he mentioned that you could make Pokéballs out of them and I was like, "ahh…"

Homemade Pokéballs sounded awesome, so I got really happy when the guy gave me an Apricorn Box to collect Apricorns in. I thanked him, then went outside to collect one from the tree. Turns out that the ball I thought was for playing was made by nature.

I shook the tree, and the ball just popped right out from the top of the tree. It was weird, but I catched it into my new Apricorn Box and thought that it was the most awesomest thing I've done all day. Or month. I've spent most of last month napping and watching crappy T.V. shows.

By then it was getting dark, so I knew I had to hurry. The very second I stepped onto the tall grass I was approached by a Pokémon.

It only knew one move-Harden. It had no stomach for fighting, and kept curling up in a ball to increase defense instead. Pathetic.

It was a very uninteresting fight. I didn't even care to try to order Cinder to do anything but tackle, and he seemed really bored at the end. When we defeated it, he cheered.

Moving on.

We went on to defeat caterpillars, more living cocoons, and purple rats. Cinder got poisoned by one nasty thing, and while I had the antidote for it (I stocked up at Cherrygrove) that medicine apparently tasted really bad too. In fact, the look on Cinder's face had so much disgust, I took the antidote back out and looked at the flavor. Then I shivered. The flavor was even worse than grape.

Orange.

I stuffed my other, unused antidote really hard into my bag. Cinder and I moved on, then I found a Pokéball.

I'm not really sure who would leave things like a broken Pokéball, put something in it, and then leave it in somewhere random. It doesn't make sense, but I had thoughts that maybe it was like geocaching. So I picked it up and cracked open the Pokéball, ready to solve a code.

In it was more antidote.

Cinder, not having seen it, looked up at me hopefully. I shook my head, then shoved the antidote inside my bag before he saw it. Let him still have hope in the world, while he's still so young and innocent.

It wasn't too far from there where I saw my first Pokémon battle.

These two kids in identical gear were facing each other with their Pokémon out of their Pokéballs. One of them and his purple rat Pokémon was doing so bad, I thought he would cry but instead he tried to act like he actually had a chance and kept spamming potions and ordering tackle. The other guy was the cocky type, and seemed perfectly at ease in this battle.

I came up next to the rat trainer. Not that I could have been next to the other one, because they were battling _in between a narrow path that was otherwise blocked by a ditch. _Nice way to make things convenient for everybody else, fellas.

"Go, Rattata! Tackle!"

The other Pokémon dodged the attack. Sucker.

I snickered, probably too loudly. The rat trainer looked at me in annoyance.

"What? This is a big battle! Leave me alone!"

He turned back to the battle, and I figured that it was a cue for me to hurry on.

"Okay, Cinder, let's go!" I hollered. Cinder seemed to have to force himself to keep moving, but he followed me anyway. I like him.

I considered stopping for a break, just for Cinder, but then I saw a sign that said "Mr. Pokémon's House Straight Ahead!" and I figured that it couldn't be too far off from there.

It wasn't. I soon came by a house with a mailbox that said "Mr. Pokémon's House."

Even the postal office considered him as Mr. Pokémon. It had to be his official name, then, or mailing would get too confusing.

Briefly, I considered that having the last name of "Pokémon" is such a weird thing to have, and what kind of luck he had to have to get parents with a last name like that. Then I realized that he probably got it the normal way names are changed; court, lawyers, and the fifth amendment.

I knocked on the door, but nobody answered so I got impatient and invited myself in.

An old man with a brown hat and brown clothes came to greet me.

"You must be Lyra," he said gravely.

I looked at him in surprise. "How the hell do you know? I've never seen you before in my life."

"It was I who sent Professor Elm the email."

I nodded and sat on a chair in the living room. Mr. Pokémon ran to a device he had at the corner of his living room, and picked up something. It was too small for me to see what it was at that moment. He then went back to me, walking very, very slowly. It was almost like I was something dreadful he has to face despite his personal interest.

Then he held out the object in his hands, and I knew why.

"This is what I want Professor Elm to examine."

An egg.

Mr. Pokémon explained the story. So, he had a friend from Ecruteak give it to him. He doesn't know what's in it, so he's asking Professor Elm.

I don't know why he didn't ask the friend he got it from what's in it, but whatever. I'll take it.

Mr. Pokémon kindly had Cinder rest, and the poor guy took a nap right next to me on the wooden floor. I smiled, and then a random guy came up to me. I squinted at him. I honestly hadn't paid attention to him before, but when he was right before me he seemed familiar. Like he was a celebrity or something.

"I'm Professor Oak, a Pokémon researcher!"

Whoa! The lame guy I saw on T.V. earlier!

"I just came to visit my friend, Mr. Pokémon. I waited here when I heard you were running an errand from Professor Elm."

He examined Cinder. "A rare Pokémon? You have to be helping with Professor Elm's research!"

Now, let's not jump to conclusions here.

I deliver the egg, and I'm done. Maybe return Cinder.

Then I looked down at my Cyndaquil and my decision wavered. Well, _maybe_ I'll keep him…

Oak muttered some stuff about "friendship" and "caring." Those are obscure subjects to me and not worth my notice very much. He walked back to me and our eyes met.

"I'd just met you, but you seem to be a very reliable person. Would you like to help me out with my research?"

I hesitated. "Well…"

He took out a red device that seemed almost like a handheld console. "See, this is the latest Pokédex. It records data on Pokémon you've seen, or caught."

I nodded. "Sounds cool."

I had this nagging feeling, maybe from my lazy summer days of T.V., that I've heard of one before. Maybe it was the news, when they were describing some kid from Pallet Town with it. Maybe I read about it. I don't know.

"I'd like you to have it!"

"What!"

"Go meet many kinds of Pokémon and complete that Pokédex!"

Reluctantly, I took it. I watched Oak with hesitation, waiting for him to take it back.

He never did.

Oak left right after that. Apparently he had some radio show in a Golden City or something. I got his phone number, though.

...And then, I was on the road again.

The second I was out of the door, got a frantic phone call from Professor Elm. Poor guy, he lost all his wits. I didn't even gather what all the stutters and shouting were about.

Unfortunately, I was too far off to actually be of any help, so I didn't exactly hurry to the rescue.

First, I picked up a pink apricorn from Mr. Pokémon's apricorn tree.

Second, I made myself a snack.

Third, I took a nap on the grass.

By the time I woke up, it was already the afternoon so I decided that it was about time to get moving.

I was just about to leave Cherrygrove when the stalker from earlier crossed my path.

"Hi…" I said.

He had no answer. How rude!

Then he said, "You got a Pokémon from the lab. What a waste."

Rude. RUUUUUUDE.

"At least I don't stalk people like a serial killer," I answered. "I get things the right way."

He seemed to get pretty angry. "That's a Pokémon too good for a damn wimp like you!"

"Shut up. Unlike you, I have actual social skills, and you know it. Don't start with this jealous loser business."

He couldn't think of anything witty to say to that. He just stared at me, until he finally said, "Don't you get what I'm saying?"

Cinder growled.

This was the final straw for the Passerby Stalker. "Well, I too have a good Pokémon. I'll show you what I mean!"

He then flashed his Trainer Card in my face. He had one of those really old fashioned ones. The only words I was able to make out were "Silver Badges," "Time playing," and "Pikachu."

Well, no wonder he was so resentful. It must be so awful to be Silver, when Gold is the best.

Then he took out a Totodile. I remembered it from the lab, as the dangerous Pokémon that seemed to enjoy biting people. So I said, "Yeah, your Pokémon is good. _Take it back." _

"What?"

"Take it back."

"_Why?" _

"Why not?"

"We're _battling_."

"I never agreed to."

"But you took out your Cyndaquil."

"He's _always_ out." I was getting annoyed at this point. "Are you stupid or what? He was out the whole damn time. You even looked at him and made a comment."

The boy looked confused. "What?"

"_What?" _

"What's your problem?"

"You are so stupid."

"What did I do that's stupid, loser? You're the one who's delaying the battle."

"You don't even make any _sense_. All you did was say that you'll show me your Pokémon, so you took it out, and I was like, 'yeah, looks nice, take it back' and now what do you want to do?"

"Show you who's better at battle!"

"My Pokémon has already been trained in the tall grass and everything while you just got yours. Obviously mine are better."

He had to think of a while to combat that. Finally he said, "My tactics are better."

"Look, your _only_ Pokémon knows only _two _moves. Do you really want to battle and make a fool of yourself, or train and get better and then we'll talk then?"

He thought, and then said, "Okay. I'll get your number and we can battle later once I get my team started up."

Finally, some logical thinking! I even clapped.

We were about to exchange Pokégears when something happened.

Apparently while we were talking, Totodile was making faces at Cinder. Now, outraged, Cinder leaped up and tackled Totodile to the ground. Totodile dodged the attack and countered with a scratch. Although Cinder barely got hurt, he fumed and his fire expanded by a tenfold. Passerby Boy shouted at Totodile to stop attacking. The water Pokémon snidely obeyed his trainer's order, and instead started leering at Cinder. Insulted, Cinder went ahead to tackle him to the ground. Totodile soon became unconscious, and lied limp on the ground.

"Are you happy you won?!" the boy shouted.

I shrugged, and turned to Cinder, who was beaming. I shook my head. "That was bad, Cinder. Very bad." Cinder whimpered. Then I turned back to the other trainer.

"I get paid for being the winner, right?" I asked brightly.

I thought he was going to cry, but he slammed 500 Pokédollars down my hand.

"Thanks," I said. He stared at me hard and didn't reply.

"Do you want to know who I am?" he asked.

"No really."

"I'm going to be the world's greatest Pokémon Trainer. You'll know my name then."

Then he just walked away. I could tell he was trying to act all cool and swag his pants, but his Trainer Card fell out of his pants so it was pretty pathetic. I picked up.

He patted his pocket, then panicked. He looked back.

Running over, he shouted, "Hey! That's my Trainer Card!"

I gave it back to him.

To my surprise, his face was full of horror. "Shit! You saw my goddamn name!"

Then he walked away.

Um, okay.

But if his name is what I think it was, no wonder he was so embarrassed.

I headed back to Route 29, but can you believe? It was dark! Mom and Elm couldn't have been much happy with me.

How do these summer days go by so fast? Either that, or my conversation with the stalker took us three hours to get through.

Overall, I was pretty relieved to get back at New Bark.

I headed to the lab first, and there was a police officer over there.

"Whoa, what happened?" I asked Elm, who seemed to have been panicking. I'll like to think he called the police because of my disappearance, but I feared that wasn't the case. I find that people are rarely interested in my well-being.

"We're investigating the case of the missing Pokémon here," the police officer explained. Then he recited some dumb rule that said that the person who did would come back to the crime scene, and accused me of doing it.

First of all, it's stupid to go back to a place you stolen from, so I doubt that often happens. Second of all, the fact that somebody who came to a crime site has to be a suspect is just a dumb rule, and I was like, ten miles away from the site of the crime. Call Mr. Pokémon, if you don't believe me. Third of all, I'm interested to see how that Pokémon got stolen anyways. Isn't Professor Elm always here?

All of a sudden, Ethan ran up and decided to play lawyer (thankfully, no Maril was present).

"She's innocent!" he yelled.

I sighed. I was thinking something like, _dude, calm down, I've got this. I know my fifth amendment and everything. I even have _logic _on my side. That's more than the police officer can say._

"I saw it," Ethan said. "There was a red-haired guy looking into the building! Like, for the entire day!"

"Yeah, I battled him," I mentioned. If it's the water type Pokémon that was stolen, it was him alright. If it was the grass one, then me and Ethan are going to go to court for lying, which is no fair. Ethan got me into it.

The police officer turned to me. "What was his name?"

I shrugged. "IDK for sure."

The police officer nodded. "What names could that possibly stand for...?"

"No! I meant, 'I don't know!' God, keep up with the times!"

"Well, what do you _think_ his name is?" Ethan said.

"Pikachu."

Silence.

Ethan said, "_What?"_

The police officer nodded. "It will be known as 'Case of the Pikachu Boy,' then. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll now search for this red-haired individual."

He left the lab, and I wasn't too sorry to see him go.

"I'm glad they realized you're innocent!" Ethan said. "See ya!"

Again, I feel like that entire thing could have been solved by myself, but whatever. I give Ethan a nod and watched him leave.

Now for Elm.

He was practically tearing his hair out about the missing Pokémon. I tried to comfort him by saying nothing, deciding not to say that all he had to do was breed another one and he'll be all set. Feeling attachment to that weird croc Pokémon was just beyond me, but I guess that I shouldn't expect that kind of visual hostility from others.

Elm took the egg I got back from Mr. Pokémon while I mentioned that I saw Oak earlier.

I took out the Pokédex Oak gave me. "See? He even gave me this thing and everything."

Elm jumped. "Is that true? Th-that's incredible!"

"Really?" I said mildly. Elm looked like he wanted to slap me for my casual nature.

"_Yes!_ He is superb at seeing the potential of people as trainers."

Oh. So basically, Elm is so surprised that I got a Pokédex instead of the "model" Pokémon lover, Ethan. I've lived next door for such a long time, and my neighbor thinks I'm an idiot. Well, some things can't be helped.

"Things are going to get fun!" Elm gushed, getting all excited. "Well, Cinder seems to like you, so...why don't you take the Pokémon Gym challenge?"

"Hell's that?" I started, but Elm interrupted me in all his excited rambling. I managed to gather that gyms are scattered all over Johto, and after beating them I can battle the Champion of All Things On Johto Pokémon. It all sounded really awesome, so when I went back home I told my mom all about it.

"So, you're leaving on an adventure…"

"Yeah pretty much."

"Hmm...what can I do for you…?" Then her eyes brightened. "I know what to do!"

I shifted my feet around in discomfort. "Yeah?"

"Every time you receive prize money, I'll save some of it for you. Money's important on a long journey."

"Okay…"

She nodded, then paused. "Be careful out there, Lyra."

"I will. I promise."

"Pokémon are your friends. When you work as a team, you can accomplish anything!" I smiled weakly at that.

My mom pushed me lightly, tears in her eyes. "Now, go on!"

I nodded. Then I headed back to bed because it was nighttime.


	3. Why No Bathroom?

When I headed to Route 29, I encountered Ethan and Marill. Oh, damn.

"There you are!" Ethan grinned and walked up to me.

I stared back at him blankly. "Hi."

He give him the lecture on how to catch Pokémon, but it's really obvious stuff and I already know how to do it. And really, I can do it much faster than him. Attack, take out Pokéball, throw it, pray to God, watch the Pokéball shake, hurrah. It's pretty simple.

Ethan gave me some Pokéballs, then left to go to Cherrygrove or something. In a few minutes, he was already way ahead of me. Maybe it's chasing that Marill everyday is what got him so fast.

So, I went onward.

I let Cinder nap, had a snack, battled some wild Pokémon, and got lost.

Eventually I came back to the place where I saw my first Pokémon battle. I ended up getting challenged by the trainer who lost in the battle. He claimed that I seemed weak, despite the fact that Cinder was out and was clearly much stronger than his stupid little Rattata.

It was my first trainer battle, so I got all excited. However, the battle ended very quickly. In fact, Cinder defeated the dumb thing in one freaking blast of fire.

"Oh...I'm out of Pokémon…" he said. Nice way to point out the obvious.

Cinder went back to my side, proud.

"Hey, can I get your number?" the trainer asked. "I'll ring you up for battle."

I thought something that went among the words of: "A boy wants my number? Omigod, I feel so pretty right now!"

What I actually said was, "Sure, why not?"

I gave the kid my Pokégear. He made some beeps on it and stuff. I got it back, grinning at the sight of the name "Youngster Joey."

I felt so damn popular.

Anyways.

I went against another trainer after that, some guy named Mikey. Just like Joey, he had all the popular stuff for boys on: yellow shirt, blue shorts, blue cap. To them, if you're a boy, and you don't have these things on, you may as well not exist as a Pokémon trainer. Hence why Ethan is so unpopular and is always around with me.

Then there's another group of boys who Ethan doesn't fit in with either. These are the type of boys who wear huge hats, blue shorts, and a white tank top, and they have a weird obsession with bugs. To them, if you don't go Bug catching or own a cockroach as a pet, you don't exist.

Ethan doesn't fit very well with them, either.  
Then again, I also have my unbecoming features as well, but I'll talk about that later.

As I walked around with Cinder, we came upon this cave. It seemed all dark, all awesome, so we went in.

Big mistake.

It was completely dark in there, and most people would leave just for that.

I shrugged it off, and went in deeper.

Worse mistake.

I tripped over Cinder and fell into a bat. Then, I fell over some rocks and granite, and fell over Cinder again. Cinder was getting really angry at me, but by then we were in so deep I lost my way back. As I tried to find my way out, I found myself surrounded by moving boulders and flying bats that came out of nowhere. By the end of that experience, Cinder looked like he wanted to shove me into the lake and never think about me again.

He gave me that look again.

I shook my head. "You can't lead."

He gave me a furious look. I sighed and walked on.

I won another battle and I got some other guy's phone number.

Moving on.

I was so tired, I fell over and took a nap. When I woke up, I discovered that Cinder pissed on me. I knew Violet City wasn't too far off, so I decided to crawl the rest of the way there so that nobody would see me from there to the Pokémon Center. I was at the gate, when the clerk got angry at me and told me to stand up and actually walk.

I was just getting up when Ethan and Marill arrived at the gate.

Crap. I prayed that they wouldn't notice the large stain on my shoulder.

"I knew it was you, Lyra! How did you get past me?" Ethan asked.

By crawling around in the tall grass, but I wasn't about to tell him about it.

"Here's something for surprising me!" he exclaimed, and gave me a recorder. Then he sniffed. "Hey, Lyra? There's grass stains all over you. And that smell on your shoulder is…"

"Bye! I've gotta go!" I screamed, and I ran the hell outta the gate, the clerk shouting back at me in anger. Ignoring everything around me, I sped to the Pokémon Center shouting apologies.

**Things to Think About… **

When I went to Cherrygrove's Pokémon Center, I noticed a nurse blocking the way to a staircase. I became increasingly more suspicious when she claimed that the area downstairs was still in construction. Does she get paid simply for standing there and telling people that? Hmm… I should consider a job there.

According to a man at Violet's Pokémon Center, a boy single handedly beaten a sinister organization called Team Rocket. The boy must have been more efficient than the police was.

The map of Johto makes the whole place look bigger than it actually is.

They should consider adding a clothing change at the Pokémon Center, or at least a bathroom. After heading to Violet's Pokémon Center, I had to go back to the woods to change into my extra outfit. It was a traumatizing experience for the Pokémon who saw me, I'm sure.

At Violet's Pokémon Center, a man named Primo asked me of what I honestly thought of him. I took the honest part very seriously. Therefore, I called him an useless chitchat. When he asked of what I thought of his "exciting, fun" nature, I said that it was like a Zubat anime. He told me it was great feedback and that it'll motivate him to work harder. That's great, I guess. I like feeling helpful.


	4. I Beat the Plant Lords

**A/E (Author's Excuse)**

Well, it really is horrible how often I've been updating.

Part of the reason is that I wrote some of the chapters by hand, like I usually do. Thing is, I rarely type anything I write up. So it took me a nasty while to get things up and going, and after a while I simply forgot about the whole thing. School happens, life happens, you plain forget about it after a while. Final exams are drawing near. Time goes on, and that's the main part of the reason. flew over my head in the midst of everything else. It's been weeks, heck, _months_ since I've made much progress. I hadn't thought of that until I came back onto here and see when the last time I updated was.

So that's up with me.

But really, I appreciate the comment, the followers, everything...now, I just need to get working on this again! :)

* * *

It was afternoon when I walked out from the Pokémon Center. In the daytime, Violet City lost the strange mystical feeling it had at night. To be honest, I liked that. Halloween freaks me out.

The place felt nostalgic, in a weird kind of way. Everything made a big effort to look traditional, as though the city was trying to fit in with feudal Japan and it wasn't working. The buildings were purposely made darker, even the Pokémon Center. I suspect that a bright red building seemingly out of nowhere wouldn't look nice. Really, they must be smart people to realize something like that. If it was up to me, I would spread my knowledge to darken Pokémon Centers everywhere, but this isn't a perfect world. You just never will know how people would react to that. In fact, they may just even make me buy the paint myself.

There were stone roads too, and traditional looking Japanese buildings. Not that everything isn't Japanese, but this was one for the places that didn't pretend like they were from badly researched American suburbs. The place gave me a sudden burst of happiness for some reason. I don't exactly know why, but whatever. I shouldn't complain when I feel happy. We are both well aware that there's enough to complain about already.

I walked, even whistling a little, and then I found a sign. It read:

_Violet City_

_The City of Nostalgic Scents_

Well, that explained a lot.

On my way, I got some information about the gym leader. I don't think he'll be hard to beat at all. He got the gym by inheriting it by his father, and not by actual skill (although everyone in Violet City would foolishly argue otherwise). I also found out from another girl that he's hot. I'll be the judge of that.

You hear that, Daddy's boy? I'm comin' for you.

I just don't know when.

I stared at the Pokémon gym, considering. Then I was approached by a weirdo.

He spoke in broken English. When I told him that I have yet to beat the local Daddy's boy gym leader, he jumped and twirled.

I stared.

Beckoning to me, he pointed out a building, then ran over there. I followed him to the building, but I assure you, I had my Pokégear ready in case I have to call 911. Just because I'm a preteen traveling the region without any parental supervision whatsoever doesn't mean I don't have safety standards. I _do_ have safety standards. I just don't use them most of the time.

The guy beckoned to me the building. I blinked and kneeled down to read the sign for the building:

_Pokémon School_

I didn't believe that such an absurd thing existed.

"Good for you to study here!" he said, apparently being the school's advertiser. Then he got inside the building.

It was such a weird advertisement that I actually just stood there and stared for a few minutes.

I didn't want to go in. I mean, I'm actually a fairly decent Pokémon trainer. I'm not bad enough at it to go to _school._ Still, the building looked cool. I really liked the old Japanese look they were going for, with the low purple roof and all.

But if I wanted to become a Pokémon Champion before Pikachu, I had to hurry the pace up.

I went north from there, and let's just say that if I don't control myself I'll gush like it's nobody's business. It wasn't nighttime yet, but the two flickering lanterns near the stone bridges made a brilliant image. I stood between the lanterns on flattened gray stone, breathless by the natural beauty. I was surrounded by clear, gleaming water. It seems like the stones were coming out from the water and were conveniently good for traveling across the body of water. And above it all was a tall brown tower. It was of traditional Japanese style, of course, and fitted in so well. I thirsted to see this landscape at night. How lovely the lanterns' light would have looked in the dark, the light reflecting over dark, clean water. Above it would be the tower, bright with lamps inside and standing proudly-

Just then I got a phone call. Damn. I just about to mention Japanese philosophy into this.

It was some kid named Joey. I tried to remember, and sure enough, he was the first boy who asked for my phone number.

"Hi, Lyra! How are you?"

"I'm alright. How are-"

"Hey, do you remember my super-cool Rattata?"

Briefly, I thought. I think Joey was referring to that horrible Pokémon that lost all the time.

"Yeah, I remember." Though I wasn't quite sure if I was thinking about the right Rattata. He could be talking about a better one.

"My Rattata is different than regular Rattata," he said.

_Oh, great,_ I thought. I figured that he was going to give excuses on why his Rattata keeps losing. Like, it's genetically mutated to have 10 HP max or something like that.

He continued on. "It's like my Rattata is different than regular Rattata." Pause. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Sorry, no," I admitted. We both hanged up shortly afterwards. I placed my Pokégear in my pocket, shaken.

_What other Rattata has he met?_

I have no idea what he sees in his Rattata, but frankly, it's his life.

I turned back to the tower, and noticed a sign with questionable grammar to the left of it. What was on sounded like something from a Pokémon Amity Park commercial:

_Sprout Tower_

_Experience __the Way of Pokémon to Cast Aside Your Doubts_

Still, what the hell? I got in.

I found the most weirdest thing.

I was in a barely lit wooden room, the sight of a shaking pillar at the center of it. Traditional Japanese instruments played in the background, though the musicians were out of sight. I saw people, mostly monks. Two golden statues of Bellsprouts stood at either side of the entrance in all their leafy glory.

So, these people worshipped Bellsprouts. And this was the shrine.

I couldn't really get my mind around that.

The place made me feel uneasy, but there were some people in it so I couldn't just leave. I walked into the room nervously, self conscious of the way my 'Murican tennis sneakers made loud noises on the wood.

I turned to the old woman near the entrance and inquired about the shaking pillar. Apparently, there was a rumor that a Bellsprout over one hundred feet tall became the pillar. That freaked me out.

I approached the girl facing the pillar. I was ready to leave by then. Her back was to me, but she turned to me long enough to explain that people were training their Pokémon upstairs.

"Really?" I said, glancing at a weary monk.

The monk nodded. "Yes." He looked at me square in the eye. "Only those who reach the top will receive a wonderful move."

That about settled it. Cinder and I rushed up the ladder next to the monk and started the challenge (we navigated up by using old school ladders). Well, Cinder needed some extra help, but otherwise we were good to go.

Upstairs, I ended up tripping on a Rattata-can you believe it? All this talk about the place being historic and everything, but they don't even bother to clean it well.

I came across a sage—that is, a self proclaimed one. A sage is one of great wisdom and knowledge. I couldn't judge the sage myself. We had a battle, which I easily won. Then I asked why nobody bothered to clean the place up. Even as I spoke, I saw flicker of movements from the corners of my eyes. There wasn't just that one rat from when I first came upstairs, there was practically an infinite amount of them. In fact, it was insane just to consider all the rats that could fit in there.

The sage answered that without Pokémon lurking in the tower, there wouldn't be as strong a challenge for Pokémon trainers climbing the tower.

Okay, but I doubt the longevity of the tower now, if that's the way the place will be carrying on. You never know when the whole damn thing will fall down just from all the rats. And that's to assume that the tower doesn't have any other problems, which it probably already does. The shaking pillar comes easily to mind. At this rate, ten years down the line the tower will fall down like London Bridge.

While I was busy considering safety and other worldly concerns, the sages thrusted their beaded necklaces out and uttered philosophy while Cinder incited their untrained Bellsprouts in merciless bursts of flames. Maybe I shouldn't be too harsh, but it was ridiculous to see all the feeble little leaves not enduring one puny little hit. I was proud, but still frustrated that all I was doing was the same old shit over and over.

Eventually, after a battle Cinder came to a stop. His tiny figure winced, of pain I supposed.

I looked him over, but he was in good shape. All he'd had to do all day was blow up fire on plants, which is a simple thing for him to do. I decided to urge him onward. I had little luck with that.

I stopped and turned back to Cinder. Externally, nothing was wrong with him. "What?"

Then small white sparks came from Cinder and pulsed. Yellow flashes occurred, I had to cover my eyes. I screamed and backed away from Cinder.

"What is going on?" I shouted at the nearest sage.

"Your Pokémon is evolving!" he yelled back, staring at Cinder. Even with all those Bellsprouts running around to worship, I suppose they've never actually tried evolving them in case they'll lose their holiness. I guess. To be honest with you, I'm not very religious.

I didn't understand him for a moment. Gradually, the news sank in my mind before I comprehended exactly what evolution meant.

Then I freaked out.

MY POKÉMON IS EVOLVING

MY POKÉMON IS EVOLVING

OMG IT WON'T BE CUTE ANYMORE

Little hospital sirens bounced around in my mind as I wobbled to the floor. I can't really remember what happened after that very well. The sage said I fainted.


	5. A Stalker is Following Me

**Author's Note**

Just a reminder!

Silver, the rival, is known as Pikachu in the parody. I don't want anyone to forget that and get confused. I know it's been a while since I last updated.

* * *

I woke up in the bottom floor of the tower. The sages told me that since there isn't a human hospital in Violet City, they did the next best thing—sprayed green tea all over me. They claim it's the best way for someone to stay awake. I can't understand their logic, and my only clean clothes (I only brought two sets of clothes) were stained and smelled of green tea.

I really do need to become the Champion soon.

I looked at Cinder, and Cinder was in a mess. Awkward adolescence, indeed. His body seemingly doubled in size, and now he looks like a stretched out version of what he once was. Also, there was fire on his head now, to add along with the whole burning butt thing. Now his _head_ is on fire, too. What's going to come next? A burning heart? Well, that does sound kind of cool, actually...

I'm looking at Cinder now. Cinder's got a look on his face, like, "Screw you, what the hell are you looking at? It's _you_ who has green tea spilled all over their shirt."

It's so cute, it almost brings tears to my light sensitive eyes.

You pass this time, Cinder. But I swear, if you get me on fire, I will release you on the spot and have Joey's Rattata take your place. The inevitable, horrible shame would douse all of your flames in a second.

Anyway.

So I walked on. And there was Pikachu. The red haired stalking criminal variant, I mean, not the cute lightning mouse kind that you see on television. He was talking to one of the sages, who was probably a bad battler. All the sages at the tower are.

The elder said, "You showed us what you've got, and it is indeed good..." He took something out of a little wooden book. "Take this..._Technical Machine_."

I was so certain that he was going to ask Pikachu to join the priesthood. Then I remembered about the prize waiting for all those who get to the top of the tower, and my insides quivered with excitement. Cinder also quivered, but probably because he was about to burp.

"However, you should care more about your Pokémon," the elder continued. "The way you treat your Pokémon can be too harsh... Remember, Pokémon are not tools of war..."

_Pikachu, Pikachu, Pikachu._ I shook my head. Whenever people say something like that, it usually means that the other person is so bad at battling, their Pokémon are dying in dire red all over the place. They win by using throwaway Pokémon and brute force, and you can't win using brute force all the time. It's really annoying when you go against people like that, even if you're decent and going to win. They think they're so great, they didn't pack potions and stuff, and they end up showing their real colors in battle—they don't bother to care about their Pokémon and know what type comes with what and beats what, and they can't make up a strategy to save their planet from being destroyed by baby plants. Their Pokémon are under leveled and full of bad moves, because instead of doing things the right way, these bad Pikachu Trainers choose moves based on how awesome they'll look saying it. Their Pokémon are chosen the same way, because they're vain that way. Also, they're too lazy to train, or train efficiently.

By the way, for the rest of those diary, I will refer to trainers like that as a "Pikachu Trainer," just because Pikachu is such a great example of it. A great indicator if someone is a Pikachu Trainer is when the trainer is given advice, then says something like this:

"Humph! He calls himself the Elder, but he was no match for me. Sure enough, those who lecture how you should be "nice" to Pokémon... They cannot defeat me! I am too brilliant. All I care about is strong Pokémon that win every time! Everything else doesn't mean a shit to me!"

There are so many things wrong with that comment, I don't know what to say. I guess I'll just make a list.

One, he was so loud, you probably could have heard him gloating from the Pokémon League. I'm not even sure who he was talking to. Me? His imaginary friend? Nobody knows.

Second, the old guy was a random guy in a random town with no solid Pokémon trainer connections at all. We weren't expecting an expert trainer here. In fact, we were probably expecting some of the worse trainers in the entire world, but that's besides the point.

For another thing, Pikachu has only battled youngsters, lasses, and old sages, and we all know how bad they are. So Pikachu shouldn't get all high about beating everyone he meets, because they all pretty much suck.

Also, Pikachu's Pokémon are puny weaklings. He's only calling them strong because everyone he went against were even weaker than he was.

So yeah, there was so much idiocy going on in that little room I was happy when Pikachu started to twirl and magically disappeared. I wasn't sure how he did it, but I suppose it's an art. An art you get from years of pestering people. Now, when they say that they want you to go away, you do so magically!

It's a lame superpower, but meh, it's his.

I wish the sage gave me special advice, but he didn't. There isn't really much time to study a trainer's technique when they crush you in three turns. He mentioned that I battle elegantly, but I owe it all to Cinder. It's those soda pops I gave him, I know. He always tries his hardest when I use snarky bribery to motivate him.

I got the TM Flash. It would have been terrific, if I actually have plans to revisit that dark cave again. However, I do not. I ended up wasting all my time to get a stupid TM Flash, but you need to be optimistic, right? Let's start by saying that Pikachu got one, too.

After that mess, I found an escape rope. Tangled with the rope were instructions to do disappearing magic tricks. Now that I realized Pikachu has used a escape rope, I realized that Pikachu didn't have a power at all and is just overall lame.

Poor guy, really. There's nothing good about himself, so he keeps beating him and his Pokémon up so he'll look cool. That's so sad in so many levels, but I still don't like him. He's still a jerk.

After the tower, I headed to the Pokémon Gym. It was the first time I would be at a Pokémon Gym, and I got to admit, I was hyped up.

When I got inside, I found myself disappointed. There were some random trainers and there was some small little sidelines that we had to walk on. If we fell, we fell to our deaths.

Dying young in risky accidents is for losers, so I went_ around_ the gym. There were some transparent blocks that led to Falkner and went around the pits of death, so I went that way. It kind of took away the point of the trainers, though. Falkner really didn't plan out his gym properly.

Falkner was all angry and hyped up when he saw me. I'm guessing that an Electric type user came by and rained on his parade, so then he got thirsty for some victory when I came along. He really had to get his pride to heal, I can tell that. He was practically yelling at me that insults to flying Pokémon are unacceptable even though I hadn't done or said a damn thing to him. Okay, fine, I'm lying. I said, "Hi."

I shrugged and told Cinder to go screw all of his Pokémon up. Cinder burned up his first Pokémon in one flaming shot.

Falkner stared at me in horror. "How many rare candies have you used on that..._on that poor thing_?"

"None, I'm just way better than you."

Falkner's face turned red, and he took out Pidgeotto—his second Pokémon, his last Pokémon.

"The wind is finally with us!" he shouted, as if that actually made sense in context. The Pidgeotto dwarfed in Cinder's strength. Also, we were indoors, so there was no wind.

Cinder tossed out some flames. He was starting to get tired, I could tell that.

"Just one more battle," I comforted him. "Then we'll heal you up." I hadn't taken him to the Pokémon Center after the tower experience, and now I thought about it, I should have. I realized that breathing fire nonstop for a while would be a little hard to pull off, even if you're Cinder and practically _live_ inside flames.

"We can still fly!" Falkner yelled at me. Now, his Pidgeotto was spamming Roost and kept trying to heal the damage Cinder caused. It was boring as heck, and Falkner isn't as hot as people said he was. Well, he kind of is, but I was also kind of distracted from it because of his obnoxious personality. Shouting at me for no reason all the time, a daddy's boy gym leader who doesn't give a good Pokémon battle when you want one? He could've been the hottest guy in the world, and I would have still been annoyed. He's just that kind of person.

"Ember," I ordered Cinder.

"ROOST!" Falkner shrieked at his Pidgeotto.

"Ember!" I told Cinder louder.

_"ROOST!_" Falkner yelled louder at his Pokémon. Funny thing was, it almost seemed like he was yelling at _me. _

"_Ember!_"

"ROOST!"

_"__EMBER!_"

"_ROOST!_"

_"MUST YOU SHOUT IN MY FACE!"_ I shouted at Falkner. He was not an arm's length away from me. He cowered, thankfully. Shouting seemed like the prime way to communicate with him, and I can only shout so much before I get a sore throat and wish I've never met him.

Finally, Cinder defeated the thing. If you don't include my skirmishes with wild Pokémon, it was the longest Pokémon battle of my life. It was like, maybe five turns.

"I understand," Falkner said, finally realizing how irritating he had been acting for the last ten minutes or so. "I will bow out gracefully..."

He got his Pokémon back into its Pokéball, and stared at the floor for a few moments. I think he was going to cry, so I reached forward and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

Falkner sniffed. "For pity's sake! My dad's cherished bird Pokémon..."

"Don't worry," I assured him. "Your father will forgive you for ruining the family name."

Falkner looked at me. For a few precious moments, we stared deeply into each others' eyes. Falkner looked at me in love, you can only imagine how romantic he must have been feeling at the moment. However, all I could think about was how awkward it was. I placed my arm back at my sides, wondering if I should back up a little bit. We were very close to each other. In fact, my stupid hat was touching his hair. How did we even _get_ so close? All I did was walk up to him, I'm bloody honest. Do I really speak so quietly that people need to be squashed right into me?

It's really frustrating, you know, being me.

"But a defeat is a defeat," Falkner said softly. "All right." He reached into his pockets. I didn't even think his clothes _had_ pockets. "Take this official Pokémon League Badge. This one is the Zephyr badge."

I took the badge from his hand. His fingers tightened on mine when I reached to get it. I stiffened at the sight of our interlocked fingers.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Were my fingers too firm? Did I hurt you?" He strained his neck to get a better look of my hand. I shoved the badge into my bag, behind me to hide my fingers from Falkner.

"Just tell me what the badge does," I growled.

"With that badge, Pokémon, including traded Pokémon up to Lv. 20, will obey you without question. It also, uh...it also..." The practicing it took for him to remember his lines failed. He made strangled eye contact with me and blushed.

"You know what? I don't really care what it helps out with," I said, trying to help him along so I could leave sooner and become the Champion before Pikachu does. "Just...I don't know. Do you have a TM to give me?" That last part just blurted out of my mouth. I was just thinking about what a failure Flash would be in battles.

He reached out in his bag and presented to me a Pokéball. "In here is the move Roost," he said. I nodded. Right. The move that prolonged our battle.

"There are Pokémon gyms in cities and towns ahead of here. I hope you take the time to visit them all..." He studied me, getting bored of his own speech. "As for your next move..."

His voice trailed off and he had a far off look in his eyes. I cleared my throat. He leaned back in shock, startled.

"As for your next move...I would suggest my house."

I stared at him.

He stared at me, in a different way.

"What?" I said.

Falkner looked confused, then he realized what he said and his entire face turned red again. "I—I can't believe I actually said that out loud!" he sputtered, his voice hoarse. "Miss...miss..."

"Just repeat what you meant again, and pretend that never happened," I said.

"As for your next move...I would suggest Azalea Town," Falkner said slowly. "I'm going to train harder here, to become the greatest bird keeper of all!"

"Okay," I said. "See you." I turned to leave.

"Wait!" Falkner shouted out.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Yeah?"

"MY NUMBER!"

I tried to give him a genuine look. "I, well, really need to use the bathroom right now. I'm sorry, I'll have to get it another time..."

I ran the hell out of there. What else is new?

* * *

I have no idea how Professor Elm keeps doing this. He's such a master at it. Most of the time, he calls me the second I have my foot out of the door and I'm ready to leave the building behind. It's so weird how impeccable his timing is. Does he have psychic powers...?

No, that can't be it. If he had psychic powers, he would know how unwilling I am to go on a Pokémon journey and how negative I am. I'm so negative, putting me in the company of Pokémon would have unpredictable results. Really, I was close to giving up Cinder, at least a couple of times. You know I was.

Anyways.

This time, he wanted me to know that I'll be getting the Pokémon egg that Mr. Pokémon gave him. I feel like that's ungrateful to Mr. Pokémon to give away a gift like that, but I don't mind, to be honest. It's lonely with just me and Cinder around.

I headed to the Violet City Pokémart (Elm explained that's where the drop off is). I saw the orange clothed delivery person, but I got a Super Potion instead of an egg. He said it was from my mom. _Did_ my mom order a Super Potion? My mind has been so fuzzy lately. Did my mom actually use the money from my college savings and bought a random Super Potion instead? Without any input from me? That's so irresponsible, I don't know where to begin. I never spend _her_ money without asking like this (pretend like I actually have access to my mother's money).

Well, it was already bought, and there's not much to say about it now. I called my mom up to tell her not to do it again, but when I was about to get around the subject she hanged up on me. Our conversation lasted nine seconds, max. I suspect that the reason why my mom was perfectly okay with me leaving home is because she's been inviting all her friends to cocktail parties at our house. I heard things from the other line that confirmed my thoughts.

I looked around the 'mart, and apparently I went to the wrong person to get the egg. Eh...

The right person was the one in the scientist attire. You're probably going to question my intelligence now, but let me just remind you that I recently had a Pokémon battle with an irritable guy that had the need to continually shout in my face, despite us being squished into each other for ten minutes. In fact, now I think about, Falkner must have been sliding closer and closer to me while I was being distracted by the Pokémon battle. That could also be why I thought he was yelling in my face at the end and why I thought he was getting louder.

I just reread what I wrote in the last paragraph. It disgusts me so much, I never want to see Falkner again. Thank goodness I won and don't have to. I think I would be deaf from all the noise that goes on between us when we battle.

I am also feeling sick from writing so many exclamation marks over and over again. I rarely spend time with such loud people. I know that I also contributed, but I swear that I wouldn't have yelled if it wasn't because of Falkner. Now I've got a headache just from reimagining the noise that was going on in there. So I'm going to limit the exclamation marks for the rest of this diary entry, because I'm plain not having it.

After I left the Pokémart, I was approached by a geisha. I'm not really a good fan of the geisha performances and stuff, so I tried to avoid her eyes to show that I'm not interested in her advertisements.

But instead she was talking about something else.

"Me oh my...that egg, it has to be..."

My eyes widened. What the hell, how can she had seen through my bag? It was scary. Also, "Me oh my?" That was so unfamiliar, it was also scary. Was that possibly a geisha's magical spell, to keep me cursed with bad luck forever?

She took a step closer to me. I was paralyzed with fear and clutched my bag tightly with one hand. The other hand I used to finger my Pokégear.

The geisha muttered in a daze, stating correctly where the Pokémon egg has gone (from Mr. Pokémon to Professor Elm, from him to me). This was some creepy stalker business going on here. I was trembling, the hand holding the Pokégear shaking.

"I understand," she said.

I blinked and looked at the geisha. She backed away from me. I took a deep breath and felt like I could breathe again.

"That egg...truly, it is an important egg. Please do take good care of it for me."

I stared at her, beginning to get breathless again.

"Is that understood?" she added firmly.

I nodded, my shoulders sinking and rising like waves in the sea.

The geisha twirled. What was the point of that, I don't know. Her final words were—actually, I forgot. But she walked away and left after that. I wasn't about to stop her from leaving.

I'm now at the Violet City Pokémon Center, getting ready to head out again. I've got Cinder healed up, and he's good to go. Me, I'm not sure.

I'm still kind of freaked out, so I'm just going to freak out here and not on the road.


	6. Lyra, Not Soul

I was so relieved to get out of Violet City, the place of Pikachu, Falkner, and my stalker. It was time to go to the real city of Johto, Goldenrod. I've always wanted to go there, even since my friend May from private school told me she lived there. She described me the place, it sounded awesome. Buildings everywhere, people, and the most important things in unimportant Johto is done there. _There_, they do actual business. Bellsprout worship _does not_ count as actual work, Falkner. It does not even make any sense.

I went past the gate and proceeded to head west to Goldenrod City when my path was cut immediately by a little stout tree about my height (I'm short, okay?). The path was narrow, and there was this dumb tree right in the middle of it. I was about to try to cut it down myself when it made a groaning sound. I was a hundred percent sure that it was a Pokémon that just really wanted to piss me off. Trees don't groan when you touch them.

I tried to get Cinder to attack it, but he wouldn't. Cinder can be a real jerk sometimes.

So there I was, dealing with a stupid little tree_, _and I saw a girl at the other side of it. I called out to her, but she didn't listen to me. It's like she couldn't hear me, or something. Either way, the damn Pokémon tree wouldn't freaking move in any direction, and the problem was so random and annoying I screamed out in utter despair. Because of this_ Pokémon tree_ I have to walk the entire way to the other entrance of Goldenrod City, and if I get a sprained ankle on the way there I will hate that tree forever. It's not even a real tree. If it was a real tree to big for me to cut I wouldn't care about it, but if it's a freaking stupid Pokémon tree that refuses to budge despite _pulling, shoving, pleading, and desperate screaming_ I can't feel much sympathy. My hatred of it is the life it chose.

I got a phone call from Joey right there, and he mentioned that he took down a Weedle in the wild the other day. In my fury, I asked him why he thought that was a notable achievement. Joey said he'll hang up and think about it.

He's having the good life, I guess. He isn't dealing with stupid trees blocking the way to your paradise, while a geisha is stalking you, and while you're on a high speed race to become Champion before a guy named Pikachu becomes one.

Looking at my map, I saw that the alternate, _long_ way to get to Goldenrod City goes through Azalea Town. Azalea Town, if I remember correctly, is where Falkner wanted me to go after Violet City. I hadn't taken his words to mind. One reason is because Falkner in general isn't someone I take the advice of seriously. The other reason is because I heard in the news that some shady people are stationed there to cut Pokémon tails off to make popular, bad tasting appetizers. It sounded gross and repulsing (Ethan tried the appetizers at a fancy restaurant and told me that the food tasted horrible), so I didn't even think of seriously traveling there. I know there's a Gym there, so what I was planning on doing was to fly over there for my eighth Gym Badge, beat the Gym in twenty minutes or less, then leave in the sunset riding on the back of my beautiful Dragonite with the ocean's waves roaring under his wings. (Dragonite is my favorite Pokémon, in case you were wondering. It looks...slightly less beautiful than its past evolutions, but nobody cares when it comes out in battle as totally awesome.)

Now, look here, Pokémon tree. You ruined my day in more ways than one, you awful, hideous creature. If I ever see you in my way again, conveniently blocking my way in the future when I travel to Castelia City or something, I will have you go burn in Cinder's fire. Next time, Cinder won't hold back. That is a bloody promise.

The map said that I had to head north to the Ruins of Alph. I think I've been to that place before during those educational field trips. If I remember correctly, I puked all over some of the ruins after my school lunch tried to kill me. All of the staff were cross with me, saying that I destroyed priceless, 1,500 year old history in three uncalled for minutes. Some people are overly dramatic.

The ruins are interesting. I feel like an awesome priestess whenever I go down to the badly named place "Mysterious Hall." At least, I assume it's called that if it were to have a name. The sign said, "This is a mysterious hall. Please watch your step."

It's still a nice place, though. Ruins of Alph is really calming, even if the school newspaper had a bad review of it—the headline read, "A Creepy, Eerie Ordeal Only History Geeks Can Like," and the picture below it, on the front page, showed a full blown picture of me throwing up on an ancient stone covered with prehistoric drawings. The caption read, "A student, Soul, shown above, throws up on a carefully preserved piece of rock—which is unfortunately very productive in the grand scheme of things. Certainly, this is one less rock formation for the scientists to examine and waste their time on."

I can't believe that article was actually approved for the paper. For one thing, they got my name wrong. Did you notice how they wrote "Soul," and they couldn't write "Lyra?" They didn't even bother to add my last name to the caption. Yes, my friends, this is clean, professional, and accurate reporting. Some people may think that it's a case of mistaken identity. I don't think that implies to me. I'm so well known at my school, they can't just _not_ know my name. That's just ridiculous, to go a week in my school without hearing my name being called down the hallways by teachers I have detention with. And I haven't even gotten to mention how offensive and insensitive that article was.

Never mind that my biography report was considered more controversial than this, because I wrote about Team Rocket leader Giovanni being a nutcase and somehow the teacher found it insulting. I didn't add a single curse word, nor insult, expect in the title ("Team Rocket Leader Giovanni is a Nutcase, and Here's Proof). I added some very scientific, psychological examination test results from numerous Kanto psychologists who studied Giovanni during the Team Rocket leader's time in prison. My citations were neat, orderly, and up-to-date. My quotes were carefully cited, researched, and organized. I still got a C because the teacher claimed that I was branching into a subject taboo for school. I still think that the reason why the teacher gave me a C is because she must have related too much with Giovanni's test answers, if you understand what I mean.

The world is just unfair sometimes.

I walked through the Mysterious Hall carefully, at first. Then I started to run back to home base like a crazy person.

The thrilling, magical feeling of the so-poorly-named Mysterious Hall hasn't diminished. If anything, it made me more on my edge. At every turn, I thought about the geisha girl pouncing out of the shadows to shake my shoulders until the egg inside my bag breaks. She'll get angry at me for letting it break (the world is unfair, after all) and she would slip away in the darkness, waiting for another day. I imagined that she would come to me the next day as a screaming banshee with a face covered in crumbling white powder, hair unkempt, kimono wrinkled and torn. Then she'll turn me into a monster too, because my life is just crappy like that.

After I thought of that, you can see why I was all in a rush trying to get out of the Mysterious Hall. I could've died, you know. I could've died from a freaking car, because of, I don't know, running over the street to get away from angry kimono girls. _I don't know_ when I'm going to die, but I'll like to kindly postpone as much as I can, please.

Oh, yeah, the run back was much prolonged by a phone call from Joey.

"Lyra, howdy," he said on the phone, as I ran through the ruins like Indiana Jones is my bloody fiancé. "It's Joey, how are you?"

I tripped over a rock. Swearing, I got up and retrieved my Pokégear. In the phone I answered, "I'm doing good." Outside of the phone's earshot I said, "Shit," examining my newly skinned knee.

"Do you remember my super-cool Rattata?"

"The one you continuously remind me about?" I asked. Blood was trickling down my white socks. That was a bad thing, because my other pair of socks still smelled like piss.

"Yeah. It's different than regular Rattata."

I was too preoccupied with my bleeding knee to answer.

"It's like my Rattata is, uh, in the top percentage of Rattata," Joey continued.

I squinted at my knee. I think the injury will scar.

Great, another reason to curse the Pokémon tree. This time, it's lifelong.

"Do you know what I'm saying?" Joey asked. I was just getting a bandage out.

Joey hanged up on me. I guess our conversation wasn't stimulating enough, but to be honest, I don't give much of a shit. He's been talking about the same thing since he got my number.

I headed up the ladder, out of the Mysterious Hall. Then I got another phone call.

I thought this was a case of me being super popular all of a sudden, but sadly, that wasn't the case.

Joey called me again.

"Howdy, Lyra! How are you? You still remember my super-cool Rattata, right?"

I gritted my teeth. "Oh, you, look—_you just called_. You don't need to remind me of what you just said _three minutes_ ago."

"But my Rattata is different from regular Rattata!" Joey insisted. "It's...it's like...my Rattata is in the top percentage of Rattata!"

"I get your point, Joey," I said coldly, "but can you please call some of your other friends? I am a bit busy right now." I hung up on him.

I got out of the Ruin of Alphs. That place had to be jinxed, somehow. Jinxed with Joey.

I ended up circling around, and getting back to Violet City on accident. That was pretty annoying. I considered getting Cinder some rest, but Cinder didn't need rest. Cinder was restless. I know, he told me.

So onward we went.

Onward we went, to green grass that reeked of walking vegetables (Bellsprout, ugh). Onward we went, to purple rats transported from a post-apocalyptic world, to yellow and blue clothed young boys preparing for a never ending war, to red and white spheres with repellant inside. The last find was kind of cool, actually. Post-apocalyptic purple rats and walking plants both lost their charm the third time around.

I did catch my first Pokémon, though. It was a Hoppip. I named it Cherry even though it was male. Don't ask me how I know it's male, I just have a special gift, okay?

Well, I was on television. The guy from one of the early Pokémon Centers mentioned me, but he strangely got my name wrong. Don't ask me how, but he called me Soul.

MY NAME IS LYRA, 'KAY, NOT SOUL, PEOPLE.

Lesson learned, right?

* * *

**Author's Note**

Just letting it out there...

Since the music gives the atmosphere of the game, you're probably going to see my opinions in the story somehow. In my personal opinion, the most creepiest music in Pokémon is N's Room (Black 2), Strange House (Black 2) and Drought (Omega Ruby). That's just my opinion, though! :) Just thought about mentioning it, because I heard that some people think that Ruin of Alphs has creepy music. Though I guess it can be, depending on the circumstances...


	7. The Police Doesn't Seem to Like Me

Azalea Town was just as bad as I thought it would be. And I had _very_ low expectations, too.

Now, the trip there was nothing to write home about. Trainer battles, blah blah blah, cave with mutated rats, blah blah blah. The most shocking thing about the trip there was seeing how bad Cherry really was. I mean, he knew no offensive move to speak of, the uneducated brute. He only knew how to look cute, and then heal himself after the opponent attacked him, then look cute again. I am not kidding. However, he could heal himself only five times in a row, so I suppose the match would've ended soon, but still...

He eventually learned how to whip his tail so affectionately that the aggression of his opponent would _slightly_ decrease, but that's hardly a worthy move, either. I had to work very hard with Cherry the Hoppip here, in order to make something useful out of himself. I somehow got him to learn how to tackle...but to be honest, I don't really see that much potential in him. He's not very good at attacking. I_ really_ want my Dragonite soon. It'll be so freaking OP, the rest of my Pokémon won't matter.

As I went on in the Union Cave (the previously mentioned boring cave), I battled against a guy with one of the cutest Pokémon ever, a Vulpix.

Now, here's when I face palm—why couldn't I find_ that_?

Also, my damn repellant didn't work. It was the weak version, sure, but it didn't even work for ten steps, much less a hundred. When I reread the back of the used container, I noticed something I missed—the Pokémon I was walking with had to be a _higher_ level than the Pokémon you're trying to avoid.

I'm not entirely sure what this abstract term "level" means, but I think it meant how high up your Pokémon is in the Pokémon hierarchy.

I look at Cherry regretfully and face palm again.

Not that there was too many things wrong with Cherry—he was pitiful, pathetic at battling, at the bottom of the Pokémon hierarchy (below even the Rattatas), thought flopping around was a valid battling option, but he was also...cute? Maybe...? Almost as cute as Vulpix...?

You know what, forget it. If I look back on that, I'm just going to regret everything. So I'm simply going to have a smile on my face and encourage Cherry, like I'm the parent of a five year old losing in a game. "You can do it! I believe in you! As long as you have heart, you can achieve anything!"

I hope Cherry can't magically read, because otherwise, some tender hearts are probably going to get broken here.

I did walk on, with Cherry by my...well, not my _side_, but he was behind me the whole time. I turned around one time, only to find Cherry was nipping at my feet. I kind of shouted at him, and then I walked on. Two minutes later he bumped into me.

"Behave, Cherry!" I scolded, but I doubt he knew I was saying. He just started biting my feet again.

I decided to ignore him. So I turned, only to have a magenta rat bounce into my face. Cinder, awesome Cinder, got the Rattata done with, but Cherry still needed a professional lecture. I turned to him again, ready to give him a piece of my mind, when he started wandering around the place. Well, you can imagine how I felt about _that_.

Before long, Cherry was looking steadily down, in shame I suppose, and that was all the trouble I got from him today.

I wish that was the end of my troubles, period, but I haven't even gotten to the subject of Azalea Town yet.

After all that crap at Union Cave, I was ready to have a no BS weekend and get the gym done with, but sadly, that was not what happened.

First off, once I've left the cave, it was raining. Not there's anything wrong with rain, but having it raining when you're entering a new place is a bad omen. That's just how all the tragic stories start.

I entered Azalea Town, and it magically stopped raining. Which was weird, but get this—there was this teenager in a black cap speaking threateningly to an old man.

The boy was face to face with the man. He was so close to him, the boy's cap was touching the old man's forehead.

"Who are you?" the old man croaked, frowning.

The teenager laughed. "'Who are you?' You don't know us? We are...Team Rocket!" He had emphasize on the "we," even though I didn't see anyone else around.

What the hell, where's the police? If this boy goes everywhere like that, it's a wonder how he hadn't been arrested already. Still...

"Team Rocket broke up a long time ago," I said. If he was going to pretend to be a member of a gang, he should probably know its history before he mindlessly goes threatening people for no reason.

The boy didn't bother to look at me, but he sure answered me. "What? We broke up a while ago? Give me a break! We have not broken up!"

"Give _me_ a break," I said.

He paused, then amended his mistake. "Actually we did, _once_. But we have come back to pursue Giovanni's ambition."

"You are all evil, evil people," the old man rasped. "Let me be—"

"Enough talking!" the boy cut in. "Shut up and just beat it!"

He shoved the old man back. Cowering in fear, the man ran away into the heart of the town.

I stared at the boy as he took his place in front of a well, then I glanced at the sign next to him:

_Slowpoke Well_

_Also known as the Rainmaker Well._

_Locals believe that a Slowpoke's yawn summons the rain._

_Records show that a Slowpoke's yawn ended a drought years ago._

Well, more baseless superstition. And I thought I thought I left all that behind at Violet City.

"What is going?" I demanded of the boy. He was obviously acting as a guard, blocking the way to the Slowpoke Well.

"Nothing is going on," he lied smoothly, when only moments before he declared himself a member of Team Rocket. "It's unsafe to go in there, so I'm standing guard to make sure people don't wander in. Am I not a good Samaritan?"

I narrowed my eyes and walked away.

The sign for Azalea Town said: "Living Happily with Pokémon."

Yeah, right. Isn't this the town where they cut off Pokémon tails and make gross snacks? "Happily with Pokémon," my donkey. They should change the sign to something less predated.

My suspicions were confirmed once I came to the gym. I was blocked by a shameless advertiser from Team Rocket who was telling me how tasty Slowpoke tails are. I politely asked him to move, but he blatantly ignored me, the jerk. Seriously, those Team Rocket people have no subtlety, none at all. It's a wonder how the police wasn't done with the lot before that ten year old child from Pallet Town was. If anything, that simply shows how unspeakably lazy our police force is.

Last night, I snuck out of the Pokémon Center, hoping that by then the man have moved away from the gym, but...no. He actually stayed out there, the whole, entire night! How does he do that?! There wasn't even a tent...! Does he have a doppelgänger?

Overall, Azalea Town is a disappointment. It has none of Goldenrod's flash and neon lights. Instead, it's a regular town out in the countryside, hardly significant in the slightest, expect that it has a Pokémon gym in it. It's so old school a town, it even has some kind of...log company for charcoal or whatever.

It might have been worth it if the place was home to a wonderful accomplishment or whatever, but I hadn't heard anything about that. To be honest with you, I don't count fried Slowpoke tails as a serious achievement.

I gathered from the residents that besides Slowpoke tails, Apricorn Poké Balls are a tourist attraction—well, as much of a tourist attraction as they can get. A longtime ago, apricorn Poké Balls were everywhere, but they have fallen into obscurity due to the mass produced plastic Poké Balls. Azalea Town still has one Apricorn Poké Ball maker. By having a man by the name of Kurt take your apricorns, you can come back the next day and find them turned into homemade Poké Balls. That seemed pretty enticing to me, considering that the rest of the town was so _blah._

I got inside Kurt's house. He looked like Professor Oak, so wise and grandfatherly. Kurt even had his young granddaughter with him for the creditability.

I greeted him, and we were introduced.

Kurt was pretty pissed off, not at me thankfully. It was at Team Rocket, and I can't say I blame him. Cutting off a Pokémon's tails, closing off a well, closing off the _gym_, it's enough to drive off tourists and ruin the old man's business.

I sympathized with him, and told him he had to take things into his own hands.

"I'm going to go give them a lesson in pain!" Kurt agreed, pushing up his sleeves. "Hang on, Slowpoke! Old Grandpa Kurt is on his way!"

He sped out of there, just like that. He seemed pretty eager, but I ran to go after him. If the old man got hurt, I would know who's fault it was. And I don't have enough money in the case of suing.

I bet my mother doesn't either, actually. I think the cocktail parties are starting to become a regular thing out house, ever since I left.

I was guessing that old man Kurt tackled the guard at Slowpoke Well, because by the time I was there the entrance was empty and I was able to get in. As I walked on the twisting path around the well, I got a phone call from Anthony, who was telling me how easy Hoppip are to beat—I sure hope Cherry didn't understand that. I climbed down the rickety ladder down, and I saw Kurt lying on the ground, staring at his reflection.

"Hey there, Lyra!"

"Man—no, Kurt! What happened...?"

"The guard up top took off when I shouted at him," Kurt replied calmly—he's so awesome, even more considering his age and all that. "But then I took a tumble down the wall. I slammed down hard on my back, so I can't move..."

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" I asked nervously. I wasn't even sure what to do if he had to.

I mean, we were out at the bloody countryside! If there wasn't a hospital at Violet City, there certainly wouldn't be one out there.

Kurt ignored me. He just went on about "punishment," then decided that I had to be the one to punish them. I didn't even have much say in the matter. I didn't really want to join in with his "revenge" business, but I thought the training might be good for Cherry, so I had to nod and suck it. Besides, I figured that if I took them down, the advertiser at the gym would leave and I can beat the gym and get this place over with. If that happened, everyone would win, expect for the Team Rockets. But goddammit, I don't care for them much.

I called the police, since I'm a responsible citizen and that. I told the police on everything that was happening with Team Rocket so far in sharp details. After that there was a pause.

Then, "How does a little kid know our phone number?"

"Is the police going to help me out or not?"

"Can I speak with your parents, dear? You've been watching the Ash Ketchum show too much."

"The Ash Ketchum show—!" I swore silently at this. "No, sir, this is _real life_, and I'm on my Pokémon journey. As I have previously mentioned."

Shuffling on the other end. "Team Rocket has been disbanded."

"I told you, they teamed back up again."

"That's not an issue," the person on the other end said lazily.

"Tell that to the kind, elderly man who got his back hurt," I shot back.

Below me, Kurt groaned.

Another pause. Then, "Can I speak with your parents?"

"_I'm on my Pokémon journey_."

"You're too young for a Pokémon journey," said the voice on the other end, annoyed. "You need to be ten years old, little girl."

"I'm sixteen years old," I said, throughly infuriated. "I'm sorry, but this is an emergency. I don't have time."

Pause. I waited anxiously. The phone on the other line shifted around again. This time, a woman spoke, and she had a stern voice.

"Who is this?"

"Lyra. Lyra—"

She cut me off before I could say my last name.

"Where are your parents?"

Kurt grasped one my socks in a tight fist._ "Punish them yourself, Lyra! Punish them! Revenge. Revenge!"_

I hanged up on the police. I don't think they cared, really.

I went into the well, even though I hate caves. I was walking, and the guard from earlier jumped out at me from the shadows.

I gasped. "The hell, man!"

"Humph! I was standing guard up top when some old coot yelled at me. He startled me so much that I fell down here."

"That's not my bloody problem." I was so startled, I didn't bother to filter my language. "I'm not even with that 'old coot.' "

Clearly I was lying with that last part, but I just wanted to go through the cave with no worries.

"I don't care. How about I vent my anger and take it out on you!"

Which actually resembled what Kurt said before...

See, I told you I didn't want to get involved in this "revenge" business.

The guard took out a Rattata. For a moment I didn't think he was for real, but Cherry was itching for the exercise. So I thought, _why not?_

Of course, I won. The guard wasn't the type to think things through.

After the battle, I inquired about the Slowpoke.

"Sure, we've been hacking the tails off Slowpokes and selling them. Team Rocket will do anything for money."

"That's...utterly repulsing."

The guard shrugged. "Gotta do what you gotta do."

I doubt that they "gotta do" that, but it made me feel interested about it. Like, who the hell would actually _buy_ it? That's what _I'm_ wondering.

Then Joey called.

"Lyra, howdy!"

"Ah, Joey..."

"I saw a wild Pidgey! I thought about going for it, but I failed."

"Oh...okay..."

"Oh, well...I guess that's just the way it goes. I'm not very good at catching Pokémon yet..."

That was the end of our conversation (which I was kind of glad was over), and then I had to continue the doom of heading forward.

Another Rocket saw me, and she came towards me. I think the guard from before warned her about me, but she was too lazy to pass on the message.

I sighed. "Can you _please_ stop taking Slowpoke tails? It's just revolting."

"What? You want us to disobey a direct order from Executive Proton?"

"Yes," I said.

I didn't even know _who_ that Executive Proton guy was, but I didn't really care, either.

"Well, if you wish to stop us, you must defeat us all. Go ahead and try!"

I thought she said, "Catch us all," so for a moment I stared at her with wide eyes. _I ain't a cop!_

She took out her Zubat. We battled. I won. Hooray. Really, this is way too easy. I'm not even having that much fun anymore.

"You rotten brat!" the lady said. "Slowpoke tails grow fast. Besides, it was an order from Proton."

"Proton?"

She spent the next few minutes talking about how sexy he is, and it was enough to make me feel embarrassed. I walked away while she was still talking, and I don't even think she cared.

Two minutes later, another guy comes up. It was so irritating. I was going to stop and find a good place for a lunch break.

"Just stop taking Slowpoke tails," I said.

The guy started blabbing about Team Rockets' rep. Strange, isn't it? Though to be honest with you, I was barely paying attention by then. My Pokédex was more interesting than them.

I gazed over to the next part of the cave, and there was two Slowpokes and one man. One of the Slowpokes had a letter attached to it, and it said this:

_Be good and look after the house with Grandpa and Slowpoke._

_Love, Dad_

So Team Rocket was stealing Pokémon. That made everything make more sense. I wonder why nobody freaking bothered to mention it to the police. That's a legit crime, in my book. I'm not sure about the law books though. I'll have to check.

If stealing is a crime, then I have the whole thing made.

If stealing is crime, then stealing Pokémon is a crime. If stealing Pokémon is a crime, then what Team Rocket is doing is a crime. If what they're doing is a crime, they're supposed to be arrested by the police. If they're supposed to be arrested by the police, and they're not arrested by the police despite being reported, then I should every right to sue the freaking police department for an old man's back injuries, and, uh...verbal harassment. And I should have every right to get a good amount of money from that case.

My God, I should be a lawyer. Then I won't have to pay for one.

Although my mind was distracted, I went to the man standing in the corner, and the _man_, get this, was pretty hot.

"What do we have here?" he said, and I guessed that I was looking at Proton—the lady from earlier had described him throughly enough that I wouldn't have missed him on a busy city street.

He had silky aqua green hair that curled up to frame the sides of his handsome face. It was an eccentric hairstyle, though it suited him well. The black Team Rocket cap he wore settled nicely onto his hair, and his eyes were almost the same color of his hair. Almost, for his eyes appeared to be some shades darker. He had flawless skin.

"I am often labeled as the scariest and cruelest guy in Team Rocket..." he drawled, and, upon looking at his angelic features, I couldn't figure out why.

"Do you have a relationship with the Team Rocket woman here?" I bursted out. I really hope he doesn't.

Proton scowled. "I strongly urge you not to interfere with our business!"

He even took out his Pokémon, touchy man! If I had known he was so touchy, I would've responded in a different way, that's for sure. Proton took out a Zubat, which was hardly news to me. I had Cherry fight it, and I must say, Cherry responded fiercely at the time, and so we had the Zubat done with fairly quickly.

I turned to Proton. "Are you going to reconsider?"

Proton shook his head. He took out his last Pokémon, a Koffiing, and commented that no matter where Team Rocket goes, there's always someone who disagrees with them.

"Maybe you should stop doing stupid things." I was getting heated up, and no matter how touchy he was, I still wanted to get my words out. "Why did any of you even _join_ Team Rocket, anyway? There's better and easier ways to make money."

Proton didn't say anything.

I turned back to Cherry, furious. Fine, let our Pokémon speak for us...which was really a dumb thing to do, anyway. Cherry couldn't take the Koffing well, so I took out Cinder, and Cinder barfed on the floor after the battle was done. I think he was nauseated just looking at the Koffing.

Proton started ranting after the battle was done, and even though he was an "Executive" and very good looking, I was sick of him too. I let him leave even though my heart wanted me to marry him and when Kurt came (at _great_ timing; one minute after Proton left, too) I left the well with him. I didn't see Proton on my way out. Some part of me was sad, because I kind of have a crush on him. Some parts of me were yelling at that other part, noting how_ bad-tempered and greedy_ that man was, with the Slowpoke business and touchy business and whatnot.

And the rest of me, which was most of me, was internally yelling at everyone to shut up.

That was the most wisest part of them all, and it resolved the issue almost instantly.

Back at Kurt's house, he mentioned I was like a real hero.

"As I mentioned before, Team Rocket was disbanded by a boy called Red three years ago. Now that they have come back...well, I have a bad feeling about it."

I nodded. By then, thoughts of Proton were generally out of my head, but some...small things got in. I swallowed, willing myself to internally shut up again.

"In any case," Kurt continued, "I will make you Poké Balls, Lyra."

He gave me a Fast Ball.

"Thanks," I said. I pulled my bag open and shoved the Fast Ball in—I'll get the lecture on organization later.

Kurt noticed the Apricorn box, and mentioned it.

"Um..." I glanced back at him. "You can make them into Poké Balls, right?"

"Fine! I'll turn them into Poké Balls."

I gave him four green Apricorns, and he inspected them with a wary eye. Finally he said that'll take him a day to make, and I thanked him again as his little granddaughter gave me his number.

I left the house, and you know what? It was evening by then. I spent the entire afternoon chasing after Team Rocket. Those were full, complete hours that Team Rocket took from my life, and I will never forgive them.

I'll have to be lucky if that red-haired Pikachu boy isn't Champion before me.


	8. Celery is the Master of the Universe

So far, I've agreed with my mother. I've written everything down, because I'm scared that I'll forget everything by the time I turn Champ. By the time you're a Champ, everyone will expect you to compose a brilliant, life changing speech for them, and I believe writing down my experiences would help in that regard. Mostly, well, because they expect that from you. Who am I, to deny what everyone else is expecting? Only geniuses can do that.

However, I've also been writing down things in order to calm myself down, because just recently, I was _stalked again_. Like, seriously people! I know I'm fabulous, but this is starting to get out of control. I haven't even became rich and famous yet.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

* * *

First, the egg hatched.

It was a male Togepi, and it's named Kitty. It just reminds me of a sleepy cat, you know, because of the way its...hair stuff spikes up. To be honest, I don't know the accurate term for the yellow fuzzy part. It has eyes on it, and a mouth. Popular opinion of the Pokémon Center's patrons call it a "head." I am not so certain. See, there's that spiky part at the top, and it resembles hair. However, the hair seems to directly come from the "head"—that is, there is no clear distinction between "hair" and "head."

The Togepi, strangely enough, has "clothing"—it is in the resemblance of an eggshell. It is strange, as I can testify that Kitty came practically _bursting_ from his egg, the eggshell splitting apart, and besides, the egg was a solid light yellowish color with pale green dots. The eggshell the Togepi wears has a mysterious pattern involving the colors of blue and red on a solid white. Therefore, I must logically conclude that the Togepi, Kitty, had come from an egg that come from another egg. There is no other logical explanation.

Kitty hatched seconds after I asked Nurse Joy to heal my Pokémon at the Center—I suspect magical properties are involved. I had barely walked two steps when I got a call from Elm.

He knew, right away, that the egg hatched._ How?_ Could it be possible, that _he's _stalking me, through the use of scientistic pawns? Robots, perhaps? This sudden interest everyone has in me is so baffling, I can't even begin to feel remotely flattered.

"A Pokémon hatched from that Egg," came the smug voice on the other end. Those were his exact words, as though I could not notice an egg breaking inside my shoulder bag and giving to Earth an eggshell clad baby Pokémon.

My hands tightened around my PokéGear until they turned white. "I know that."

"I knew that giving you the Egg was the right thing to do. I just knew it!"

"Anyone can hatch an egg," I pointed out. For one example, Ethan could. I bet even Pikachu, my red-haired rival, could do it. It'll take him some time to learn not to break it, sure, but at the end, he'll be able to do it.

"You should come back here and show that Pokémon to me," Elm said.

"No. I am not walking all the way back to New Bark Town—"

Too soon, the phone hanged up on me. I was cross, but not cross enough to call him back. I headed straight to the gym with Kitty behind me. The gym leader, according the gym guide, is a bug type master. I checked the gym statues (those who have beaten the gym leader get their names carved onto the stone), and I noticed with glee that Pikachu hadn't beaten the gym leader yet. He may have gotten to Goldenrod before me, if that's the case, but for now, I've got a start on him when it comes to dreary old Azalea.

Robotic spiders navigated challengers around the gym. It was a very poor design decision. It looked ugly and didn't suit the place at all. I know that bug type Pokémon aren't usually what I consider as "beautiful," but they certainly could have designed the place better. I almost prefer Falkner's suicidal gym design compared to the robotic spiders.

Are all the gyms going to be ugly or pointlessly dangerous? I hope not. The battles inside the gym are so lame, it's only the gym itself that matters.

You know what? I should rank every single gym I come across based on design. In the end, it all comes down to design, since every battle is a cakewalk.

At one point, I glanced at Kitty. He suddenly started dancing in happiness, which was kind of alarming because we were on a robotic spider above a dark, dark pit. I should write something about safety concerns in my review. We need to keep the world safe for the little ones.

About Kitty. Well, he had this move called Extrasensory. He would shift around the image of his opponent in a distorted manner, then he would straightened up and have a really menacing look on his face, as though he was trying to faze them. The last part was so adorable, because his opponent was usually more scary looking than him.

Now, for my reviews...

* * *

Falkner's Gym

Safety: 1/10 (I wish I can give zero)

It was incredibly unsafe standing on the wooden planks. They were narrow, and there were no railings. Below the planks it was completely dark. I suspect there is no safety net down there. If anyone were to trip and fall, they would fall to their deaths. The safety standards are atrocious. I encourage young children to be accompanied by adults (if they _really_ have to go), and for people scared of heights to just forget about it.

I would encourage the entire world to stay away from the place, but alas, we need our gym badges.

Design: 5/10

The design was merely passable. The things that slightly resembled floors used simple pieces of wood. It gave a nice sense of balance...at most.

Gym Trainers/Leader: 4/10

There was only two gym trainers, and they were spread out nicely in the very small gym. Their quotes were of horrible quality, though one of them had humility and expressed dislike of the safety of the gym. The gym leader in particular, I have many complaints about.

Average score: 3/10

Bugsy's Gym

Safety: 6/10

The gym was like a kiddie ride at an amusement park in its use of robotic spiders. Below the robotic spiders was only a pitch darkness. Young children, beware.

Design: 3/10 (It was going to be 2, but then I realized it could've been worse)

It overall had a very ugly and unappealing design, though the spider webs the robotic spiders traveled on were slightly interesting. I thought that the switches were a clever feature, though it would be saddening if someone were to accidentally break one of them.

Gym Trainers/Leader: 7/10

The quotes of the trainers were not remarkable. Most of the trainers gave me empty threats, though a couple of them mentioned interesting educational facts about Bug-type Pokémon. Bugsy seemed like an interesting young fellow. He showed honesty and great humility. Shame that I ruined his winning streak in only a few turns.

Average score: 5/10

* * *

So that's with them.

I went to Kurt, for more than a day has passed. He was still not done with my Poké Balls. Makes me start to suspect his work ethics...

Ah, well. I was still leaving Azalea for good. I was just going to head for the gate when I heard loud heavy metal rock music behind me. I turned around. It was Pikachu, and his way too loud radio.

Pikachu stared at me for a few minutes.

"Yes?" I said.

"Tell me something, bitch. Is it true that Team Rocket has returned?" he whispered, like it's a secret or something.

"Are they even worth mentioning?" I yawned. "I battled them, and won. They are nothing to be scared about, little child."

"_What_? Hah! Quit lying."

"You wish. I _battled_ them. I battled _Proton_." If Proton had a reputation for being scary, I wanted it all to rub in Pikachu's face. Kind of petty of me, I know, but I'm sick of Pikachu.

"Are you for freaking real?"

"As sure as you are pathetic."

"Then let's see how good you are."

"Fine, but turn your radio down."

Pikachu turned it _louder_, playing a different song. He tossed out his Gastly. I tossed out my Cinder. I changed my mind and was going to get out Cherry instead, but by then Cinder was petrified into staying in battle—Pikachu's Gastly give it a cold look or something.

So Cinder knocked out Gastly, _then_ I got out Cherry.

Pikachu's Croconaw tried to give Cherry a mean look, but Cherry was too busy whipping his tail cutely to notice. Then Croconaw got in a critical hit on Cherry, and KO'd him in one hit.

I got out Cinder, pissed. The fight was not ending out well. I planned to send Cherry into the PC box, permanently. I had never, never had this "knockout" thing before, with neither Cinder or Kitty, and Kitty was a baby that went against gym trainers.

Cinder can take any water that Croconaw childishly sprays on him. He took Croconaw out, pretty well, I'll say—though the fight wouldn't have ended up that way in the first place had Cherry behaved. I view it more as a manner of Cherry allowing the critical hit, then Croconaw being good enough to make it. Let's face it, Pikachu is a horrible trainer and his Pokémon are horribly trained. He's good enough to be a Champ someday, but he isn't good enough for _me_ to lose to _him_. His standards are way below mine.

Cherry has not met my standards.

He gets a "C plus" in my class.

Though he gets a "B" for effort.

Well, Pikachu lost—did we ever suspect otherwise? He'd said things in the battle: "I can never lose to a weakling like you!" Right, Cherry is weak, but Cinder was getting him Pikachu's Pokémon down, and he shouldn't call the whole team weak when it was really just one part of it. And really, Pikachu has already lost to me before, and he calls me "the weakling," and saying he has never lost to me before. Yeah...okay...I should show him this diary. Apparently, I am not the only person who forgets things.

Pikachu was sour after his lost, then he blamed his Pokémon for being weak. He told me his Pokémon are weak, and that's why he lost.

"I thank you most gratefully for that important, obvious piece of information," I said most ungratefully, getting Cinder into his Poké Ball. "Perhaps you'll train harder next time. You know, before you fight me again."

Pikachu took out his radio again, and blasted the same heavy metal rock music as before. I raised my eyebrows as I watched Pikachu breathing heavily, as though he was the one who was fighting.

Finally he said probably the important thing he'd ever say.

_"I hate the weak."_

"Really?" I muttered absentmindedly, looking after Kitty. I was on my knees, shuffling through my bag. Kitty had a scrape on one of his hands. He was crying and I was trying to get him to hold still so I could place a bandage on him. I would get him to the Pokémon Center later.

"It doesn't matter who or what," Pikachu said. "I hate to see them hanging around. That goes for Team Rocket, too."

Hah, and I also hate Team Rocket. Though for slightly differing reasons.

"I would tell you we have something in common, but I don't think you'll like that," I told Pikachu dryly.

"They think they are big and tough as long as they are in a group," Pikachu continued, barely aware that I said something. "But get them alone, and they're weak. I hate them all."

"Now, that's pushing it," I said.

Pikachu snapped his attention back to me. "You stay out of my way."

"Really? _You_ are the one who approached _me_. I feel like I would be justified if I said the same thing to you."

"You aren't an exception."

"But I'm not weak."

He turned away and left for the gate without answering me. Sheesh, that boy. Out of intense curiosity, I had to waste time and check the statues at the gym, and Pikachu's name was not carved into them. He hadn't even beaten the gym leader yet, before leaving Azalea. I even asked the gym guide if a red-haired male trainer around my age had entered the gym recently, and he responded in the negative.

Does Pikachu not know there's a gym at Azalea? For someone who's in such a hurry to be a Pokémon Champion, he certainly needs to brush up on some basic information. But never mind him. I was eager to leave for Goldenrod. Forget him, but the more in the lead I am, the better.

I left Cherry in the PC Box, had the other two heal, and I sent out. Kurt actually had my Poké Balls done by _then_, and he gave me Friend Balls. I gave him three apricorns, so I'll have something to look forward to later.

Ilex Forest...a boy's two Farfetch'd ran away into the forest. I'm not even sure how to correctly use grammar in that last sentence. How can one even _try_? I _believe_ Farfetch'd is the name of a brown colored duck Pokémon, but I am not entirely sure. Sure if that's a name, I mean. How anyone could sanely name a Pokémon like that, I cannot fathom to imagine. I wouldn't have believed in it, and I_ live_ here, and we_ eat_ them here. I still don't understand it, though. In my opinion, "Farfetch'd" is not an especially attractive name in high cuisine, unless you're not of an English origin and you like the name because it sounds "exotic," or something.

Speaking of exotic, I'll refer to them as "Kamonegi," instead of the English name from now on. It sounds better on the tongue, for an English speaker at least.

Anyway, I returned the Kamonegi (both of them) to the boy. It took some thinking, but I managed to do it. I had some déjà vu about the whole experience, you see. Don't ask me how. I'm just special in that sort of way.

The boy was pleased with me and was expressing thanks when his boss came.

"Ah!" the man cried. "My Far and Fetch'd!"

...Well, I suppose that's one way to take advantage of the Kamonegi's bad English names...

The boss understood right away that I was the rescuer of the Kamonegi (his apprentice must be disappointing, eh), so he gave me HM Cut.

HM stands for "hidden move." You don't expect to use Pokémon moves outside of battle, but it turns out you do.

The "cut" part refers to the fact that they use it to cut down trees.

I taught the move to Cinder.

This made Kitty jealous, because the latter wanted to have all my attention. I had to deal with _that_ for a while, before moving on. I came across a shrine, for celery I think. It's celery, or Celebi. I'm pretty sure it's celery, though. Us at Johto love our celery. Celery is the protecter of the lively forests. Celery is the protector of all life.

I saw a sign, and it stated that Ilex Forest is so overgrown with trees you can't see the sky. I hardly believed that for even one moment, but I naturally had to look up to make sure. Really, the sign was wrong. I don't know what century it was made in, but the whole "can't see the sky" thing is not the case today. You can certainly still see the sky. You could even sit on one of the branches, and look down at me, as easy as eating cheesecake pie. Even if it _was_ true, the content of the sign would have still been odd. If it was true, you would've been able to see it for yourself, tree or not. Unless you had bad sight, but then you wouldn't have read the sign.

I was distracted by this thoughts. I was foolhardy, and I slipped right into the trap of the geisha.

The geisha was nearby, and I didn't see her, but she saw me first. She came _right to me. _

I couldn't believe how careless I've been. I simply stared and blinked at her for the first few moments, my breath suspended.

The geisha cocked her head from side to side. "Kimono Girl, Kimono Girl, lost and all alone. Poor girl in the dark Ilex Forest."

At first I wasn't sure if she was casting a spell on me to turn me into a lost Kimono Girl, or if she was merely referring herself in the third person. Then I realized how stupid the first one thought sounded.

"I...remember you from Violet City," I choked out. "I will..." I then realized I had nothing to say after "I will."

The Kimono Girl (if she's going to call herself that, fine) twirled around, then looked at me in astonishment. "What? How can you remember me from Violet City? You must be imagining."

I barely kept my temper. Great, now she's saying I'm imagining things? Ridiculous. Was this a way to keep me from alerting the authorities?

"Anyway," the Kimono Girl said, "will you show me how to get out of this forest?"

You have _got_ to be kidding me. I began to flat out tell her "No," but then Kitty jumped. Without my discretion, he ran from my side and prompted to _show_ her the way. To be honest, it was no brainer. He just stood in the middle of the next obvious pathway.

"Wow! What a smart Pokémon!" The Kimono Girl glanced at me. "See you."

She left that direction, just like that.

I have no sense of direction either, but that was beyond ridiculous. It was so obvious where to go next, it was practically a straight line out. Well, a straight line with some curves, but still obvious.

Kitty and I walked to the gate from there, and it was an uneventful trip. At the gate, one girl told me that the protector of the forest is a Grass-type Pokémon. I replied, no, it was celery. She seemed shocked. I was firm, though.

Her response was this: "I don't think we grow celery much around here!"

I shrugged and moved on. The secrets of the ultimate form of life, celery, is clearly beyond the knowledge of a simple human being. I cannot pass on wisdom, I can only gossip about it.

On my way to Goldenrod, I encountered Ethan and his Marill. So far, it has been the longest length of time I've ever been away from Ethan (since I've met him), but the streak ended right there.

I was on my way, my regular old way, when I heard someone shout out, "Grandpa!"

Ethan. God, it was Ethan. He even had the Marill to show for it.

"Good work, Grampa! The Pokémon you raised for me has been as healthy as can be!" Then, as an afterthought, "You look fit, too!"

I stayed silent, turned slightly away. I had hoped that Ethan wouldn't recognize me, or notice me, or _something. _I was wearing bloodstained socks, so even if we were friends, I wouldn't have wanted Ethan to see me in that state.

However, Ethan became alerted to my presence, as though brainwaves visually come from my head when I think too hard.

"Ah, Lyra!"

Time to face the music. I forced a smile and approached him.

Ethan turned to his grandfather with a wide grin on his face. "This is Lyra. She's a _Trainer,_" he said, as though me being a trainer is code for coolness.

He took a gaze at my Kitty, and added, "She seems to be getting better at raising Pokémon...well, not as good as you, Grandpa, of course!"

Stunned, I looked from grandson and grandfather.

_What?_

_What did I just hear?_

_Did Ethan just challenge my upbringing of my Pokémon! "Better?" Was I _bad_ before?_

Ethan got into my face, oblivious to my new glare. "Follow me!"

He got into the Day Care, and I had to follow.

"Grandma!" Ethan cried out. "Let me introduce you to Lyra."

Ethan's grandmother smiled weakly. "So this is your girl...friend. I see, hmm. _She's the one you've been talking about."_

I gaped at Ethan. More atrocities and the next...!

Ethan blushed. "What? Grandma...! She...just happens to live nearby..."

"Haha, I know," the grandmother said humorlessly, not looking convinced. "Since you took her here, you must be sure about her talent." She winked at me. "Right, Lyra? Come and see us anytime!"

She sounded kind of accusing towards Ethan, too. Like, "So _this_ is the bitch you wish to continue our worthy bloodline with?"

Something like that.

Ethan looked at me, sputtering. "Well, I better go now...see ya!"

He walked on...then sped back.

"Here! My Pokégear number!"

I was forced to register him. I have no choice, if I wanted him to leave quickly.

Ethan's grandmother smiled in a sneaky kind of way. Ethan look back at her, desperately shaking his head.

"Grandma! Don't you say something. We are both Trainers, and we are supposed to exchange numbers. _That's all._"

Again, there was that doubt on her face, but Ethan left before she could argue.

Eh, I've been sitting on the floor and writing my diary entry here. I've calmed down by now about the whole stalker business, and I'm now freshened up to start adventuring soon. The old lady hasn't said anything to me so far...

...I see.

Ah, never mind. _Now_ she did.

I guess I'll be back on the road soon.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Oh, and tell me how the gym reviews went. I might do them for every gym Lyra comes across.


	9. Whitney, Don't Cry

**Author's Note**

Everyone who's written reviews so far—thank you! I keep meaning to say this, but I really appreciate it.

* * *

To be honest, I don't really know what to say about Goldenrod City itself that I hadn't said already. Besides the fact that the buildings are all cramped up next to each other.

But I like it though! There's some kind of tranquility in feeling that you're part of a community much bigger anything you've ever known before. I don't feel so alone anymore...

They had a department store there, with several floors for shopping. Kitty wanted me to buy him a Poké Doll, so I did. The Poké Doll was a Clefairy or something, so I was hesitant in buying him something so stupid, but he really wanted it. I looked into Kitty's wide pleading eyes, and I knew, with that glint in his cute baby eyes, I couldn't say no.

He would cry and make a tantrum if I did.

Kitty didn't ask for anything else the rest of the shopping trip, which was a relief because I'm not sure if I could have taken his crying. I mean, I'm not really into spoiling my Pokémon and all that. It'll be quite awkward if they were going to be taken to asking for toys during the middle of Pokémon battles.

At floor six, there was a lady who asked some 300 bucks for doing a drawing (as in, taking things out of a bag and seeing what you get). I tried it, because you only live once. Unfortunately, the Persim Berry I got was not worth the money. That was rotten luck, but that was probably a sign that I had to go leave the shopping mall and do something else with my time.

Still, I wasn't going to go straight to the gym without some sightseeing. I went to the Johto-Kanto Magnet Train Line but the clerk said that the train was late. He then suggested that he carry passengers on his back, and then I promptly left him alone. Next to the train station was the Radio Tower, and I have to tell you, I've been waiting to go there for a long time. I've never been allowed to listen to the radio when I was younger, mostly my mother always claimed that she didn't buy the television for nothing.

However, there was some strange activities going on there. There was a Team Rocket guy near the entrance, just staring the wall of the tower. There was no casual way to approach him. I stared back. I also considered if calling the cops was a viable option. After some thoughts, I decided otherwise.

"So this is the Radio Tower..." the Team Rocket grunt mumbled, and frankly, he sounded almost exactly like Pikachu Boy when that boy was staring ceaselessly at Elm's lab.

That can't be a good sign, right?

"What are you doing?" I said, interrupting the uninteresting monologue. If he stupidly confessed to some illegal crime, would that be enough?

He turned to me, looking pretty damn angry. "What do you want, you pest? Scram!"

I narrowed my eyes and entered the Radio Tower. The heck, is he perhaps Pikachu Boy's father, the man Pikachu learned all his horrible stalking from? Or an older brother, maybe? I wouldn't be surprised if Pikachu got his loathing of Team Rocket from him. I would be ashamed too.

The Radio Tower had a clean and neat inside. The clerks were nice. One of them told me to answer five questions, and if I got them correct, she'll give me a Radio Card so I could listen to the radio on my Pokégear. That seemed like a pretty good deal, so I agreed. Besides, it was free.

"First question!" the clerk said. "Can you check the Town Map with your Pokégear?"

"Sure."

A "ding-dong" noise echoed in the room.

"You are correct. Second question! Nidorina can only be female. True?"

I didn't know what Nidorina had to do with anything, but at least it sounded like a female's name. I told her it was true.

Another "ding-dong" noise. I wondered if the clerk could ever get bored of that.

"You are correct. The third question! Kurt, the Poké Ball creator, uses apricots as ingredients?"

"Um...yeah."

A fart noise. Guess she does get bored of the ding noise.

"Wrong!" the clerk said.

"Yes! Apricorns are the ultimate form of the apricot! _Did you not know?!_"

"Um..."

"Did you just underestimate the glorious legacy of the delicious, perfect apricot? How can you, clerk?"

"Well..."

"Shame on you, for mistaking nature's creations! The breezes of the woodland, the splashing of a pebble against a clear blue lake.._.you misunderstand the meaning of life? _The wondrous creations of—"

_"Um,_ I'll just count your answer as correct," the clerk interrupted. "Fourth question! It's impossible to use a TM on Magikarp. True?"

"What? Magical crap? Of course you can't teach Magi-crap a TM. How can you teach crap anything?"

The sound of the "ding-dong" came again.

"Wow! I have only one more question to go. In Professor Oak's popular show, Pokémon Talk, is he on with Marie?"

"How should I know? I don't have a Radio Card, hence why I'm here. Which Marie? Who's Marie?"

"Just, uh, guess."

"Ah, so even I should know who this Marie is, as culturally deprived as I am? Well..."

My mind whirled with the thoughts of ladies named Marie. Marie Curie? I supposed that she's pretty famous.

"No. He's not on with Marie. Curie died a good amount of years back," I told the clerk confidently.

"Uh..." the clerk stammered. "Okay. You got all five questions...somewhat right. Congratulations, here's your prize."

She passed me the Radio Card. I managed to plug it into my Pokégear with care (I wasn't quite sure how to use the thing, so the clerk had to help me).

A girl with pink hair that was standing near the counter with me jumped and ran up to me.

"Wow, you did it! I thought the answer to the third question was surely apricots."

"I know," I said. "The clerk didn't know the answer right."

Pink Hair glanced at her watch and frowned. "Oops! It's time to get back to the Gym!"

She ran off. I looked back at her. So that was Whiteny, Goldenrod's gym leader. I did remember hearing from somewhere that she was rather young, but she seemed younger than me. And people are always complaining about how young I look.

I tried out the radio.

"We're always watching you."

I jumped.

"They always sleep together. They always eat together. Do you think you think you can tell them apart? Those twins!"

I gasped and stared at my Pokégear in shock. There's a radio station just about stalking twins! The most damned thing—I quickly switched to another channel.

"This is DJ Ben, bringing you lullabies!"

What.

I changed the station again.

"Wait, if we're going to battle, are we going to battle until neither of us can battle anymore? Because...I've fallen in love with you. Why don't we go on a...?"

The other person started talking. "Is that so...? Well, I love you, too."

The narrator came up. "And so, they fell in love. Thus ends this long, seventy part serialization about two hotheaded teenagers."

There was then several commercials, and after that speaking from a girl named Buena. She kept muttering about a password, and I kept listening, but nobody ever mentioned what the password is. It was starting to get on my nerves, but I wanted to get this "Blue Card" thingamajig since I happened to be at the Radio Tower and the girl Buena was just _a few feet away from me._

"Drama and documentary!" cried out the shrilly voice yet again on the radio. "This is the Variety Guy!"

This was probably the seventh time she said that.

"Remember the password we mention on the show, and..."

I frowned.

Then there were more commercials.

Then, "Drama and documentary! This is the Variety Guy! Hello, everyone, this is Buena!"

There was something about a treasure chest, followed by a commercial.

After that there was something else.

"Drama and documentary! This is the Variety Guy! Hello, everyone, this is Buena!"

It's like that when that one romance (albeit not a very good one) ended, the radio stations simply stopped having a program that didn't involve Buena talking about nonexistent passwords.

The other thing out there was Pokémon Talk.

Basically what happened in _that_ station was that Professor Oak would randomly name a Pokémon and where to find it, and then a girl named Mary would say something random about it back. It was so weird. I mean, you put an amazing, legendary, groundbreaking scientist on the radio; and instead of having him lecture on about something useful, he instead blankly mutters random crap that anybody else could talk about. Also, if Mary thought she had a sense of humor, I'm not sure what to say to her.

"Raticate can be found at the Burned Tower," Oak said.

Mary attempted to act funny, but it came off the wrong way:

"Raticate! Only when you'll be there, you'll feel so strange..."

I'm not exactly a "joke critic," but her sense of humor is baffling. Perhaps it's the randomness of her remarks that give the flavor? I don't know.

"Zubat may be seen around Ilex Forest!"

"Zubat, you won't be able to resist, you'll be held captive."

"Geodude can be found on Route 45!"

"Geodude, only when you'll be there, you'll be so cool."

"Gyrandos may be seen around Lake of Rage!"

"Gyrandos, if you look at it from another angle, you'll feel at ease."

"Mareep may be found on Route blahblahblah!"

"Mareep, if you poke it, you'll be able to make a great friend!"

At one point, Mary gushed about how "strangely wonderful" the listener would find Magi-crap to be. Oak had very helpfully stated that you could find it at the Ruins of Alph.

So forget it.

That was it. Yes, that was it. I only had four radio stations with my Radio Card. I know it was free, so I probably shouldn't complain, but still. Four radio stations is not a lot.

I went to the Buena person. I figured that I'll just wing it and guess the password. However, it turned out to be a bad thing, because she wanted me to _speak into a mic _so it would pretty obvious that I'll be royally humiliated in public.

"Uh...the password is Rattata."

Buena grinned at me. "Yippee! That's right!"

Really? Well, I got my inspiration from Joey...

Buena was jumping up and down. Poor girl, I don't think anybody had actually gotten the password correct before. No wonder, considering how often they say the password in her show...*cough* never *cough*

"You_ did_ tune it!" Buena cried out with glee. "I'm so happy! You earned one point! Congratulations!"

A lady came up to me. "Congratulations! Here's a Poké Ball."

"Um, thanks," I said awkwardly.

I took the Poké Ball, then shoved it tentatively into my bag.

"Make sure you turn in everyday!" Buena exclaimed.

"Of...course."

I left right away.

I went to the Global Terminal next. I remembered hearing about it from the news. I got in, but before doing so I placed Kitty into his Poké Ball. I can't have him messing things up inside.

The clerks at the desk explained to me that I could communicate with trainers the world over using the communicators. It seemed exciting, so I went for GTS. It seemed to be some kind of global trading system. Out of curiosity, I talked to the clerk about it. Apparently I simply had to walk to another room to connect. Some kind of new high-tech technology would link me to the other players inside the room.

I gave the clerk my Trainer Card and she nodded.

"I hope you enjoy your visit to the GTS," she told me warmly. It was like I was going on a vacation rather than just another room.

I entered the room. A message about a compatible access point flashed before my eyes. I couldn't understand why. Though, whatever it was, it wasn't going to let me into the GTS.

Naturally, when I first got out, I asked the clerk about it. She looked confused, then understood my problem. She explained that before, everyone went to the Global Terminal for its features, the ones that everyone are still advertising about. However, of late, some big company or whatever got the Terminal's internet lines shut down because they wanted to focus all their energy on Kalos and Hoenn. Apparently, starting Pokémon journeys in those two regions these days is "what's in." Now the workers at the Global Terminal only give the illusion of still opening up their features, because even now they want trainers to come in so they could make money. Even though they're basically lying now.

"So you've been lying to everyone," I said, trying to make everything clear.

The clerk looked uncomfortable. "We don't advertise anymore, if that makes you feel better. We don't hire anybody else anymore. There's no flyers, no connections, nothing in Johto. At least, it's not as simple as it used to be. It'll be difficult to connect now."

"How can the company keep this building up?"

"Now we're mostly about 'informing the public about services,' and things like that. It's only a hoax, though. In truth, nobody cares enough about this place to shut it down. Johto is no longer in the spotlight. It's all about...Kalos and Hoenn now. The country pretends that the other regions don't exist." The clerk looked at me intently in the eyes. "You've started your journey at the wrong time, Lyra. Johto doesn't supports its trainers anymore."

This was beginning to make me feel uneasy, so I simply nodded and left. I didn't like feeling as though I've just started my journey out in a ghost town.

I went to some kind of tunnel next. I saw the Marill first. Then I saw _him._

I was not in a good mood to see him. All I thought about was his grandmother saying,_"She's the one you've been talking about."_

"Hi, Lyra," Ethan said. "You are just in time!"

"For what?" I replied. "Do we have a date or something?"

Ethan walked right up to me. "When you follow this tunnel, you'll see a Dress-Up Shop. That's where your Pokémon can put on accessories to dress up and take pictures."

"I think you ignored me, but I'm not sure. _Are_ you ignoring me?"

"By the way, you can have this." Ethan gave me a fashion case.

"For my Pokémon? I'm not sure if Kitty wants it, though..." Kitty was making sad faces at the fashion case.

"Did you say you want it? I knew it!"

I stared at Ethan blankly. I didn't know _what_ kind of game he was playing with me.

Ethan seemed to notice my vacuous gaze, for he added, "This is a present from me!"

As though that was supposed to clear everything up.

I took the fashion case slowly, then said, "Thanks."

Ethan beamed. "Keep accessories in the fashion case, okay?"

"Of course."

"I should get going. See you!"

"Farewell."

With that we parted, though I still felt bemused from that last encounter. I know this sounds cruel, and I have never said this out loud, but I always thought that Ethan was as deep as a cupcake—just having skin, guts, clothes, and hair. Oh, and Marill.

There were trainers forcing others to battle out in the tunnel, which made me surprised since I don't think I've seen Ethan with any other Pokémon than Marill, and Marill isn't very good at battling. It makes me wonder what exactly I know about the guy. You know, besides that he's an early riser, fond of at least one Pokémon, and likes to wear hats indoors. I realized that we have never had a Pokémon battle against each other, even though Pokémon battling is a common activity with most friends.

I got a phone call from Mother, and _really,_ she bought _another_ item with my money. I didn't want to have her stop saving—that would only show how much trust I have in her, or how _little_—but I couldn't believe she's always up to these tricks. I started lecturing her on the phone, but by the time I looked at the Caller ID, I realized that she'd already hanged up on me. Damn!

I got Kitty a haircut, because God knows he needs one. Kitty seemed a little bit happier from it.

Then I got a phone call from Ethan.

He was talking about the Kamonegi and how they seem to act odd around the Ilex Forest. I wanted to talk about completely different things, like why does he want to hear my voice so bad, why is he calling me if minutes ago he was in a hurry, but of course the words died in my throat. They're not the kind of things you would say to anyone, expect maybe Pikachu Boy. And really, Ethan is a nice guy. I usually just can't get past the annoying part of him to see that...

I ended up dressing Kitty, only to see how it's like. He was too little for me to make much out of him, besides attaching some small parts of fluff. Kitty looked distressed by the overflow fluff (although I had attached only three little puffs), and I named the portrait that resulted from the costume "No Way."

Don't worry, Kitty. I will never make you look like that again.

" 'No Way,' " mused the costume guy, trying the title out on his lips. "Oh, yes! I get it now. Your aesthetics shine through."

Kitty looked downhearted, and sleepy on top of that. I don't think he even knows what "aesthetics" mean. Nor cares much, for the matter. Then again, I'm not sure if the costume guy knows what aesthetics mean, either. If he does, then I'm going to begin to pity his poor taste. He needs to go out and sees some beautiful snowcapped mountains.

...What I've just wrote is ironic, because this costume guy in particular was dressed up as a hiker.

The guy next to him had people take pictures while they dressed like someone from Team Rocket. I decided to try it out. So there I was, with all my shortness, wearing a black cap with my brown ponytails sticking out. My shirt had a big fat "R" on it that glared out almost aggressively next to my yellow shoulder bag. Next to me was Kitty, who had his Poké Toy and something in his mouth. Cinder was behind me looking self-conscious. Oh, those Pokémon teenage years really got his spirits down. But he looked good in the picture, I'll tell you that. He just doesn't believe me.

After that I went to the Gym. I'll go around the city a bit more after that, but the gym was important to me. It was my_ mission_ to beat the Gym leader, clear and simple.

I just didn't expect it to be shaped like a dollhouse.

* * *

Whitney's Gym

Safety: 7/10

There were no railings on one part, and you were fairly high up. It was very narrow, and you had to stand on...well, I'm finding it hard to explain. Just believe me that it gets really narrow and dangerous at one part, and you even have a battle up there.

Design: 8/10

It was pretty good, if you don't mind the "girly-girl" aspect of it. It's interesting how the design made up a Clefairy. I think that shows some thought into the design.

Gym Trainers/Leaders: 7/10

Now, I liked the gym trainers.

AS FOR WHITNEY...

Overall Score: 7/10

Note: I think my review is biased because the other gyms had such bad quality.

* * *

Now, let me begin by saying that Kitty performed brilliantly.

Cinder did not.

He let the damn Miltank do so many critical hits. He let us lose!

I fainted from the shock.

I was pretty pissed at Cinder, if you could imagine. He allowed us to lose, that son of a bitch. Whitney wasn't even that hard. She was just some ten year old Valley girl who hired models and random girls from the street into her gym. She wasn't any harder than the boy obsessed with bugs, or the boy that was obsessed with both birds and me. Now, we should have waltzed in, and got the badge with no problem. Unfortunately, Cinder had a problem.

He told me he was in love with Whitney's Miltank, and that as he looked into her glorious eyes he saw a future laced with love, respect, and roughly fifteen little Miltanks. He said that he imagined them on a farm together, eating Oran berries and stargazing. He was unable to attack the love of his life, he said, and he refused to do so in the future.

Fine, Cinder didn't actually tell me this. He told Kitty, who then transferred the message to me by the use of Greek sign language.

_God,_ teenagers and their excuses (let us ignore for a second that I'm a teenager myself).

After that, I sat out to make a training regime. It worked. We won this time.

Then Whitney had a tantrum.

She started crying and crying, and you'll think she'd never lost a Pokémon battle before. I find that hard to believe, because there's a list at the Gym's statues and while it wasn't as sizable as the other two gyms I've been to, it wasn't nonexistent. The list of successful challengers were _there_, all right.

So basically Whitney was just trying to stop me from accomplishing my goals in my life—beating Pikachu Boy (enough said), becoming a professional cyclist (my mother claims she _still_ cannot buy me a secondhand bike), and mastering the art of the French tea (how do they do it?!). Now, Whitney was more notably blocking up the first goal, but it just happens to be the most immediate one for now.

I mean, I felt _bad_, but I didn't like to think that I've been wasting all my time! If Whitney wasn't going to give me the badge, it would ruin everything done so far. But I wasn't sure what to do, so I left the gym and went back later.

I finally got my badge at the end, but...eh.

I may not be leaving Goldenrod anytime soon. The Game Corner is calling my name...


	10. The Musings of a Game Corner Addict

For bragging rights, I refuse to use a calculator or guide of any kind, instead relying fully on my wit. Staring deeply into the puzzle, I ponder on mathematical equations. I write memos on the locations of the Voltorbs. The music of the Game Corner echoes in my mind...

I MUST GET TO LEVEL EIGHT.

I MUST GET TO LEVEL EIGHT!

**I WILL CONQUER—**

(The rest of the page is obscured by a thick mess of ink.)

* * *

**Author's Note**

Actual chapter to arrive soon. :)


	11. Togepi Becomes the Ultimate Athlete

Okay, so I've beaten it.

Lame.

On the bright side, I got a Dratini as a prize!

You can't beat that. Lorcan, as the Dratini was named, quickly showed his tremendous worth in battle, awing both his opponents and myself. As we basked in his breathtaking strength, Lorcan fought on with valor. After the battles were done, he looked upon us as though to say, "Yeah, I know I'm awesome...but you don't need to stare so hard."

Then he did that celebrity twirl where they act pointedly oblivious of everything around, and most of the female Pokémon swooned.

Most of them, because I remember there was a female Weedle that didn't do anything.

First of all, I have to tell you, I _did_ take care of the Pokémon tree.

"Be careful," the florist had said to me as she handed me the watering can.

I've done things more dangerous than watering a damn tree, but I wasn't about to tell her that.

I found my Pokémon tree shortly afterwards. With all my hatred for it renewed, I poured the cold, icy water over it. The "tree" hissed in anger. I glared at it.

It apparently didn't like that look on my face, because then it kicked me. This rude action offended Cinder, who was at my side at the time. Cinder blasted a wheel of fire at the Pokémon tree. The fire smoked at the contact, and I was reduced to coughing for the next few minutes. When the smoke cleared, I saw the tree had a stupid little grin on its face and was barely affected. That pissed me off, considering that any other leafy creature would smother at the fire's impact.

I came to the conclusion that the Pokémon was wearing some very expensive fireproof paint, or something like that.

Gritting my teeth, I took out Lorcan. Lorcan barely managed to finish the Sudowoodo off (I realized by then the name of the Pokémon), and the Sudowoodo fainted into the bushes. I looked upon coldly before turning back to the schoolgirl.

Yes, the schoolgirl was still there. She was there the entire fight, and probably the entire day and night I've been gone at Azalea and back. Her determination was staggering, if not foolishly misguided.

"That was fun!" she exclaimed to me.

"You've done naught," I felt the need to point out.

She shrugged the comment off. "I'm not much of a Trainer, to be honest with you. Though for entertaining me, I'll give you this."

She handed me a pot for berries. I nodded for a thanks.

"With that Berry Pot, you can grow berries from any region without worries," the schoolgirl explained. "I'll give you some berries to start with."

She was so nice, I began to regret my harsh comment from before. The berries she gave me were partially squashed, though. Still, it was the thought that counted. I placed the berries in a pocket in my schoolbag and tried to forget about them.

"I have to get back to Goldenrod City," the girl told me after a moment. "Are you heading for Ecruteak?"

"Depends. Do they have a Gym or a good steakhouse?"

"Gym, yes."

"Okay, yeah, I'm heading there."

"Then you should go north from here. Good bye!"

We parted more quickly than we've met. I went north to Route 37, with the sun's warmth ramming disturbingly into my back. Kitty evolved into a Togetic, a process I will not describe, in effort to eliminate a lot of unnecessary screaming. Not from me, but from the twin toddlers we've been battling. I was totally calm about the process. I was like, "Kitty, brush your hair."

It took some time later before I've reached the National Garden, and more importantly, the Pokéathlon Dome that recently opened.

With victorious contentment swimming around me, I walked confidently into the Pokéathlon thing. I knew almost nothing about it, but I figured it was just another place for Lorcan to show off his awesomeness. (I had thought it was a battle arena, or something like that.)

I was soon approached by a man of...indeterminable age (he had a mustache and hair as white as snow, but no wrinkles). He stopped, right in my way, wallowing desperately into the layers of my awesomeness. Lorcan's awesomeness too, but mostly mine (Lorcan was behind me).

"This...this..." He was at loss for words for a few moments. I waited on patiently. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"The twinkle in your eyes! The twinkle of friendship! You're quite something, and your Dratini is quite a Pokémon."

"Thank you," I said. Lorcan sneezed. Then he straightened up to look presentable.

The white-haired man beamed at us both. "It's ready to participate in the Pokéathlon, buddy. Most of all, your solidarity with Pokémon makes me believe in infinite potential."

At this point, I was beginning to hope that Lorcan's ego wasn't going to inflate like a balloon. He already thought too highly of himself to begin with. Sure, the man was mainly praising me, though Lorcan has the character of trying to take every comrade's praise for himself. He's a bit too conceited, that boy.

"All right," the man said, ending his speech. "Follow me."

He turned back and walked us to the dome.

"What do you think? This is the Pokéathlon Dome."

"Seems pretty interesting," I noted.

It seemed like your typical sports stadium, in a good way. I observed the Dome as the man continued on speaking.

"Pokéathlon is a sports festival for trainers and Pokémon," he explained. "Inside the Dome, there are various challenges awaiting trainers and Pokémon to test their friendship. Why don't you try it?"

"It might prove interesting," I said, turning back to the man. "I will certainly participate."

The man beamed. "I'm glad to meet a trainer with so much potential here. It is a pleasure."

He introduced himself as Magnus, then left.

To be honest with you, I had no idea I gave such an exalted impression, but I'm not about to complain. I walked around the area that surrounded the Dome, occasionally pausing to talk to the other trainers, most of them who were in fervent bursts of excitement. I was given an Apriblender to make Apricorn sport drinks, because, after all, the uses of Apricorns hardly flounder. There was a trainer who had his Pokémon do running exercises, the poor chaps. One trainer jogged with her Pokémon. They used to do it together until I talked to her—and then her Pokémon ran on without her, cherishing at the fact that he was finally at the lead.

I turned to all my Pokémon, examined them, and I figured that maybe we'll try the Speed Course. I figured it couldn't be too hard at all, so I got inside the Dome.

I came inside a dark room, the floor illuminated by neon lights. There were television sets up on the walls and vending machines next to eccentric looking plants. I hadn't said a word at the front desk before Whitney came charging forth.

"Hi, Lyra! Are you here for the Pokéathlon?"

I emotionlessly turned back to the clerk.

"Yup," I breathed out, holding out the last letter.

"Me too!" Whitney exclaimed. "I have been so excited since its construction. It _is_ close to Goldenrod City, you know?"

"Right. I'm excited, too. In fact, I was just about to ask to participate..."

Whitney jumped back, gaping at me.

"Eh?" I said.

She walked up to me, her face full of disgust. "Were you going to participate in the Pokéathlon looking like _that_?"

"You don't like my overalls?" I looked down, inspecting it for chocolate stains. My love of chocolate goes too far.

Whitney's frown deepened. "You're not prepared at all, are you?"

"For what?"

"For fame. I don't know why you dress like every day it's Halloween, but today, you have to be_ serious_ about what you wear." Whitney nodded importantly. "You'll be a sports star soon, if you're successful. You've gotta look like you have a fashion sense."

I stared back at her.

"All right," I said slowly, "my mother made me wear these clothes, so she could pretend that her little girl's here again."

It's a long story, really—my older sister Kris died and then stuff happened, including my mother having a bunch of Kris's old clothes, and...yeah. I'm used to the little girl clothes by now.

Whitney, however, was not.

"I'll buy you a jersey," she promised. "Wait right here!"

She sped away, then sped back. I apparently forgot to count the seconds.

"This is just right for you!" she said, giving me a red shirt.

After that she left.

She came to the Dome all right, but she, the gym leader, forgot to bring her Pokémon. I'll try not to think about that.

As for the challenges...

The rules of seniority dictated for Cinder to be the leader, while Kitty and Lorcan made up the rest of the team. We went against a Ponydash's team, a Pidgey's team, and a Hoppip's team.

For the Hurdle Dash, Kitty won in the first place, followed by Lorcan. Cinder was fourth.

We were second place in Pennant Capture. My Pokémon were too nice to steal.

We did win the relay race, however.

Potential, my friends! Potential!

Winning the Speed Course at the first try clearly meant that we were destined for greatness, so I then proceeded to win the rest of the competitions, all in the same day. Though there was a certain lapse in our teamwork during the Goal Roll, overall, my Pokémon performed superbly.

At Goal Roll (a game akin to soccer), all my Pokémon were screaming at each other. It was pretty easy to understand what they were yelling at each other about.

"Damn you, Lorcan!" Cinder shouted, approaching his own goal. "Why can't you be a decent goalkeeper for once?"

This was followed by a large variety of Pokémon cursing from Cinder's end. The enemy Pokémon mindfully ignored Cinder.

Lorcan hissed back at Cinder. "I was _trying_ to pass the thing to Kitty."

There was no mistaking the pointed look directed at Kitty. Here, Cinder softened towards Lorcan, because his remark was not made without truth—Kitty had spent the entire game standing at the sidelines and doing nothing. Cinder focused his anger at Kitty, glaring at the little one with an expression of steel.

Kitty flinched and started crying, shrieking about how scared he was. This immediately startled Cinder and Lorcan, who then started comforting the little Togepi. This distraction caused another ball to roll into Team Lyra's goal, after Lorcan backed up and accidentally knocked it in.

We won at the end, anyway.

I've been supportive of my Pokémon for most of these events, expect for the Smash Block one. It involved, as the name so unsubtly suggests, smashing as many blocks as you could and the winner is the team that smashed the most. My Pokémon tried their best in this most strengthy of quests, but I knew they wouldn't win. A baby, an awkward teenager, and a scrawny ladies' man (yes, Lorcan, _you are scrawny_) can have no hope in this contest of muscles.

They did good at Circle Push, even though some of the competitors were more than a little stingy. They were particularly aggressive towards Cinder for some reason. At Circle Push, all of your Pokémon have to get into a circle during each round, and if they do get in, they get points. If they don't, they don't get points. There are multiple circles, to clarify matters.

And some of our opponents were of such bad character, that even if there was enough room in the circle for two of them, they were still intent on getting a certain timid Quilava _out_. The Skiploom in particular was a bit too pushy. In fact, the other opponents didn't seem to like the bossy little thing either—I mean, it would always enter right in the middle of the room looking attentive and showy, and ordering all its teammates about. When one of its teammates expressed annoyance, the Skiploom snapped at it into submission.

Anyway. Yes, that skippy Skiploom was not too kind with Cinder.

It's funny, but for a strength competition, Kitty was doing awfully well in this event. He would just squeeze into the circle that everybody else was trying to get to, and then just stand there as everyone else pushed about around him. Lorcan usually went inside the lesser used circles that gave out extra points, and he acted somewhat territorial whenever someone made him feel threatened. Cinder was a total pushover, to the point that somebody (*cough* SKIPLOOM *cough*) pushed him out of the ring altogether. Cinder came back in the next round—only to be ignored. He just stood at the edge of the ring the entire time, doing nothing. Apparently, without me bossing him around, he won't do anything. Lousy kid.

Also, the announcer gave out awards for extra points at the end of the Power Course.

"The No-Miss bonus!"

One team had all their Pokémon get the points for that. None of my Pokémon got that.

"The points leader!"

It was the Skiploom—can you believe? The Skiploom went on to look shamelessly pleased with itself, and it glowered at everyone. The other Pokémon glared at it, even its teammates. In response, the Skiploom determinedly glowered harder.

"The Pokémon that hit the most..."

None of my Pokémon got that.

"For effort—the Pokémon that failed the most—"

_Certainly, none of my Pokémon would get that, _I thought with excessive confidence.

"Cinder from Team Lyra!"

Cinder looked on in shame. I looked away.

"Lorcan from Team Lyra!"

Lorcan pretended that he didn't exist. I was still looking away.

All the other teams had failures as well (expect Skiploom's team), but the two failures of my team took their positions very deeply.

Kitty was a baby, and even _he_ didn't get the award.

We still totally won, though. We're just awesome that way.

However, we did not win the Skill competitions with one try, like we did with everything else. Well, we did beat everything by the end of the day, but not at first. My Pokémon were crappy at throwing snowballs, a fact I was blissfully unaware of until now. As for the jumping competition, we won that only narrowly. Kitty threw up in the middle of the entry hall after_ that_ disaster. It wasn't a bad performance, though. The worst team was way worse than us. It consisted of a Magi-Crap, Seaking, and Feebas. During the jumping competitions, they acted like fish out of water.

It took us several times to win the Skill Course. At the end, we barely were able to do it. Then it took several more tries for the Block Smash. Holden's Power Juice aided us quite nicely, but really, it took us a while.

Still, the record remains! We had beaten the record for every single event in three days with only three different Pokémon to work with, and the week was ours. We got a room that had golden statues of us in it! It was pretty amazing.

At this point, you're probably wondering about Pikachu. Before I was fervently trying to beat him in the race to become Champion, now I just don't care?

Well, I decided a while ago (_prior_ to my Game Corner addiction, mind you) that Pikachu is just too blindly ignorant about the Pokémon world that I won't have to worry about him for a while. He doesn't give a damn. At least, a real damn. He's all talk and no real ambition (maybe no real brains but I'll be nice), and he hadn't beaten Whitney yet. I doubt he'd even beaten Falkner yet. At this point, I'm starting to wonder if he's just stalking me to annoy me. I wouldn't be surprised if such a scandalous thing came out. He seems like the kind of creep to attempt exactly that kind of thing.

I understand that the summer months get dull, but if he's actively _stalking_ me, that's getting into a whole other level here. Pikachu Boy needs to relax and read some good books, or something. Or at least, engage in some kind of reading that would teach him the vaguest picture of _morals. _

As for Ethan...he is magical. He shows up right in front of me no matter what I do, and I doubt he has really considered himself to be a Champion yet. As far as I can figure, he's just a random boy with teleporting abilities that wants to have fun decorating his Marill with lovely crimson threads. He hasn't even asked to battle me yet, which is what most serious aspiring Pokémon trainers would do.

* * *

**Author's Note**

If you're wondering why Lyra is so naturally good at the competitions, understand that in another life, she had devoted more time to Pokéathlon than battling. Therefore, she had an entire lifetime honing the skills she own now, and those divine skills were passed down into every reincarnation of Johto's Pokémon Trainer Lyra.

Not only is that partially true, there is truly no other logical explanation for this sudden spurt of Mary-Sue-Awesomeness.

At least, one that doesn't break the fourth wall.

**Also, some notes about grammar.** You can skip this part if you don't really care about those stuff, but I'm aware that some people do and may be occasionally bothered with my irregular grammar when referring to Pokémon related things. This section is for them.

Pokémon is (generally) consistent with its own grammar inside the actual game, but the rules are confusing at times when I write it out in a story format. More often than not, I only apply the in-game rules when it comes to Pokémon names (there is no "togepi," only Togepi), and I usually capitalize the items, such as "Hyper Potion."

The thing is, Pokémon bloody well capitalizes anything it wants! Video games in general do that. Even in Soul Silver, the names of all the Pokémon are in default with all capital letters (TOGEPI, QUILAVA). Of course, I would never write this thing like that, but you get my point. The game also capitalizes some regular nouns I find to be fairly ordinary (at least inside the game), like "Radio," "Berry," and things like that. It starts to get confusing whenever I write things out, especially because I adjust some quotes as necessary.

Okay, here's the deal: I'll only capitalize things if they're not common in our world. Berries and radios don't make the cut. Apricorns, however, do. I don't think I've been consistently capitalizing "Pokémon Gym" or "Pokémon Trainer," but I'll look into that little problem. On the subject of berries, the word "berry" itself wouldn't be capitalized, but "Oran Berries" will be written thus because then I'll try to view it as an item only found in the games. As for radios, "radio" itself wouldn't be capitalized, but "Radio Card" will be written that way for the previously written reason—I view it as an in-game item. Bicycles wouldn't be, because we have them in our world. This is a fairly casual piece of writing, so I can't imagine Lyra capitalizing everything "properly" anyway. A more informal tone would be key to the teenager's laid-back approach to writing in her diary.

Now, the Pokéathlon part is the most confusing thing here. In the end, I thought, "To hell with it," and I capitalized all the courses and their names. I tried to amend some of the damage by writing "competitions" occasionally, but since this is the chapter with the most mentions of the Pokéathlon, I suppose it wouldn't matter later on.


	12. The Real Blue Oak

With the newly evolved Togetic by my side, I entered Ecurteak City.

I can safely say I like the city. In fact, I can say I liked it very much. I enjoy that feudal Japan touch they gave to the place, with the slanted roofs and whatnot. It's like Violet City, although this city has got less of the misty shadow feeling. Instead it has more of a vibrant energy with it—the past has not been forgotten, but neither does it bar the future.

I entered the Pokémon Center, only to discover that a younger version of Professor Oak was at the front desk.

I'm not kidding...well, not by much. This man had sandy colored hair and thick drawn in eyebrows, and he looked almost exactly like Oak, at least in the face.

The man turned to me after I started to approach the front desk.

"Hi, I'm Bill. And who are you?"

I stopped and stared at him.

I mean, I didn't even know this guy, but he just randomly introduced himself and asked for my name. That was pretty...weird?

"Uh...Lyra?" I said. I was so startled I didn't withhold my identity.

"Hmm, Lyra, huh..."

"Yes...?"

"You know what? I'm the one who developed the system to transfer Pokémon."

"That's interesting." _Why are you telling me this?_

"But it couldn't have been done by me alone," Bill continued. "For example, do you know the Hoenn region? This girl Lanette made the Pokémon Storage System easier to use."

"That's wonderful." _I don't know a damn thing about computers, so don't ask me to help out._

"My friends all over the world are working together to improve the Pokémon trade and storage systems," Bill told me. He seemed very pleased with himself.

However, at this point I had zoned out. Upon hearing some words, I blinked and gaped at Bill. "Did you just say that your friends are improving the slave trade?"

_"Pokémon_ trade," Bill said, irritated.

"Huh," I said.

Some moments ticked by. Bill awkwardly cleared his throat. "I have to hurry back to Goldenrod and see my folks. Buh-bye!"

He went past me to leave, but I called him back.

"Wait, you related to Professor Oak? As a grandson, maybe?"

Bill frowned. "Uh...no?"

I nodded, trying not to look embarrassed. "Ah, okay."

"Maybe you're confusing me with Blue Oak, the grandson of the Professor." Bill took out his smartphone. He showed me a picture of that very esteemed person. "See?"

I squinted at the picture. "Nah, there is no family resemblance."

"You sure?"

"Quite. Perhaps you and Blue had been switched at birth."

Bill looked shocked. "_Really?_ You think that?"

"Certainly," I said. "You have obviously gotten your love of research and Pokémon from genetics, correct? Everything comes from genetics. As for this Blue individual...he is but an arrogant Champion, if I recall him correctly from late night MTV. He's foul mouthed, rude, and has contributed nothing positive to humanity. Also, he dances horribly. He has none of Oak's intelligence. You on the other hand..."

"Wow," Bill said, looking impressed. "That has got to be a compliment...to be compared to the brilliant Professor Oak..."

"Am I complimenting you, or feeding you facts? It would not be a strain to say that you are one of the greatest young minds living today."

"Ooh!"

I smiled before adding, "By the way, weren't you heading to Goldenrod? You can settle any disputes about your lineage there."

"I will!" Bill yelled, and he ran out of the Pokémon Center without ceremony.

After that intriguing discussion, I got my Pokémon healed. I walked around the town, curious of the town's history—I mean, when a town is as traditionally built such as this one, it must have an exciting history, right?

I finally came to a house that was home to a kind individual that gave me a Dowsing MCHN. He had a history book on the dinner table, which he allowed me to read.

I stopped reading fairly quickly into the book because it was full of nonsense.

_In Ecruteak, there were two towers. Each was the roost of powerful flying Pokémon. __But one of the towers burned to the ground. The two Pokémon haven't been there since..._

For the first (extremely short) passage, there were questions already popping into my mind. What were the two Pokémon? Pidgeys? I mean, there _could_ be powerful Pidgeys out there. _I_ wouldn't know. Anyway, a Pidgey could be found anywhere, so I don't see the point. Thing is, the identities of the Pokémon weren't elaborated on, which I was mildly disappointed about.

_Ecruteak was also home to three Pokémon that raced around the town. They were said to have been born of water, lightning, and fire. But they could not contain their excessive power. So they say that the three ran like the wind off into the grassland._

Now, about the last one—where in the world was Animal Control when all this water, lightning, and fire destruction was in place? How could Pokémon be born of the elements?

See, I think I'm getting too old for this Pokémon legend crap. I have been too educated and too well brought up to suspend my disbelief for these kind of stuff. I just think that's outright disgusting that the only history recorded in Johto is a bunch of mumbled legendary shit and our connection to Kanto. There is no pride in our country itself.

I would like to change that, to modernize Johto just a little bit, to the point that we could create our own history again. Something that doesn't have to do with a powerful Pidgey and the legendary, _inexistent_ Bellsprout. You know, just to create something that the _people_ could be proud of, Pokémon or not. I just don't like all the silly tall tales that are still about, because they are the _only_ thing we know about our Johto heritage. It just doesn't seem right...

I'm in a bit of a rant right now, so I'll move on to something else.

I'll start with the gym.

It's colored in nice darker shades, and I've got to give some praise for that. I love the way that it blends in with the rest of the town, because you can just tell that the standard bright colors would be jarring for a Pokémon gym at this location. According to the sign at the front, the gym leader's name is Morty and he is "the mystic seer of the future." That sounds pretty mystic.

I wasn't about to beat him up in battle right then, though. I had some sightseeing to do.

There was a Dance Theater, which I was surprised to see. I mean, I hadn't had much experience with Dance Theaters before, so I got in without knowing what to expect.

Only to hear some rapid shouting coming up from the stage.

"Hey! _Hey!_"

Glancing up, I saw on the stage a Team Rocket guy and the Kimono girl, face to face.

"Stop dancing such a serious dance. Show me something like a Hawaiian dance!"

You've _got _to be kidding me.

The Kimono girl looked physically restrained, from what I don't know. She didn't back away, she simply stared back at the Rocket guy. The Rocket guy was right up at her face, and she swallowed, blinking back tears.

"You mustn't push me such a request on me," she said softly. I was barely able to hear her voice.

The Rocket guy jumped up and down. Geez, it's like he was five years old or something.

"Are you telling me you don't respect what the customer wants?" said the disrespectful customer.

The Kimono girl backed up. She stared at the Rocket guy intently in the eyes, suddenly seething with anger. "Well, then, I'll show you how to dance. _I'll show you a great one._"

For no apparent reason whatsoever, the Rocket guy started spinning around and around in place. I didn't know _what _the heck was going on, but it sure seemed ridiculous. I went right up to the Rocket guy and told him to quit acting like a child.

"Huh?" he cried out. "Who are you?"

"The inevitable," I said.

"You dare get in my way?"

"Yes," I said bluntly.

The Rocket guy took out a Koffing. I gestured Kitty to him.

The Koffing couldn't take one hit.

"Looks like I lost," the guy said, retreating his fainted Koffing.

"Yeah."

The guy scowled. "You make me look like a villain!"

I glanced sideways at the Kimono girl, who looked on thoughtfully. Then I looked back at the "villain" with a shrug.

"D'you think that means I'm the hero?" I said.

The guy backed up, looking offended. Realization sparked into his otherwise dim eyes. "Oops! I have an important mission. If they find out I was wasting time here, they'll make me start over as the lowest Team Rocket grunt. I better leave now."

"Tell me your whole life story, won't you?" I said.

The grunt rushed out of the theater, unable to take more of my rude comments. At this I looked back to the Kimono girl, and I flat out left the stage at that point. I didn't want to speak with her. She was just too confusing, and...I don't know.

As I went down the stairs, an older man in a suit approached me.

"Wonderful!" he said, beaming at me. "You were so courageous for your age!"

"Thank you," I said, fighting the urge to glance at the Kimono girl's reaction.

"It was a rare sight to see," the man went on. "I want you to have this."

He gave me the disc for HM03. It was warm in my hands as I placed it in a pocket inside my shoulder bag.

"That's the move Surf," the man was explaining to me as I zipped the pocket back up again. "It's a move that lets Pokémon swim across water with ease."

He turned and left.

I looked over the rest of the people watching—there was only two. An old lady who was smiling at me, and a boy my age who frowned at me with a shocking degree of intensity.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

"I was supposed to be the hero...!" he said hopelessly. "So much for getting close to a Kimono girl!"

I pointedly looked away and left the theater.

The Poké Mart, which I do not consider a valid sightseeing attraction, was to the left of the theater. Beyond the theater was an ancient seeming establishment. The sign next to it read thus—

_Barrier Station to Bell Tower_

_No Trespassing by the Unworthy_

It sounded pretty cool, so I got in. The monk inside told me to go get a Gym Badge (and a life) and come back later. Figured.

However, the tower to the left of that one was unrestricted.

_Burned Tower_

_It was destroyed by a mysterious fire. Please stay away, as it is unsafe._

That means that I should totally get in, right?!

Inside, the wooden floor had empty patches that looked over the bottom floor. I was able to see, as shocking as it was, three Pokémon down there. They were large and quite colorful—you couldn't miss them.

I went further in—to get to the ladder down, you know?—when a man ran up to me.

"My name is Eusine," he said, as unnecessary as it was. "I'm on the trail of a Pokémon named Suicune. And you are...?"

"Lyra," I said stiffly.

"Lyra? Glad to meet you. I heard rumors that Suicune is here, so I came to look. Take a look at the hole that looks over the basement...there. Suicune is down _there._"

"I am aware."

"I could go on downstairs," Eusine blabbed, "but I know it would run away in no time."

"Really?"

"I know. I have tried it many times..."

I nodded in sympathy before going past him. It seemed like no use, though, to do nothing about it. Maybe Suicune would wait for me, I didn't know. Those other two Pokémon are fair game in my opinion, as well. Any one of them would do for me.

It was then when I noticed the blond boy with a purple headband.

I asked over him, and he graciously replied back.

"My name is Morty. I am Ecruteak's gym leader."

He explained that he was here to investigate the Burned Tower with Eusine. Ecruteak had a legend of the Pokémon Suicune, Entei, and Raikou, and Morty said that _they were right there in the basement_. Considering my own views of the legends, I was a figure of skepticism at this, though I said nothing. My mouth shut, I listened to Morty's desire to have an understanding of the legends, though something nagged me at the back of my head.

I turned, walked a bit, and I saw him. I stopped.

The unfriendly neighborhood Pikachu Boy got right into my face. He said nothing for a few minutes, staring intently into my face.

It pissed me off so much, I can't even give you the merest_ image_ of it.

"_What?_" I shouted, practically screaming. (After that, I wildly hoped I hadn't scared the legendary Pokémon away.)

Pikachu Boy frowned. "Oh, it's you."

"Yes, yes, _thank you_ for establishing that fact," I said, my fury raising up. "What is it?"

"You must be here to catch the legendary Pokémon to make yourself look strong," he said, trying to sound defiant (emphasize at "trying"). "That is only a dream. You see, the legendary Pokémon suits a trainer like me who has _sworn_ to become _the _strongest trainer—"

At this point he abruptly stopped.

Because I apparently spat at him.

I am ashamed to admit it, but at that point, I laughed so hard I may or may not have accidentally spat on his face. As far as I see it, it's _his_ fault for being right up close to me for no reason, though Pikachu Boy strongly felt otherwise. Evidently, a Pokémon battle was ensured.

He took out his Gastly, I my Lorcan. Gastly cursed at Lorcan, losing half of its health in the process. It seemed unnecessary to me, but it spooked Lorcan as hell so it probably has its purposes. Still, the Gastly was gone in one hit, and out came out Croconaw.

I directed Kitty to the battle after that. Then Cinder. But really, you don't need me to tell you he'd lost. We both know how pathetic he is.

When he took out his last Pokémon, I asked Pikachu if he'll bite his words. He wasn't exactly the most straightforward bloke when he answered:

"Out of desperation, weak people sometimes do okay at fighting back."

" 'Sometimes?' " I said. Cinder then hit Zubat with a blast of flame so hard, Zubat was left to flail around in pain.

Pikachu scowled. "Don't you get that I'm being easy on you?"

"You had no reason to 'go easy on me.' But you had every right to go hard."

Cinder finished up Zubat with one quick attack. The Zubat fell to the ground in defeat.

"Humph!" Pikachu said as he retreated his Zubat. "I'm not battling another weakling ever again. It's just too much playing around."

"I had no idea that you enjoyed losing so much, Pika," I answered back coldly as I returned my own Pokémon. I took the prize money from Pikachu's defeat, and I caressed the money in front of him. Pikachu looked away.

"Meh," he muttered. "It's not like you'll ever catch a legendary Pokémon..."

He stormed off. Yeah, okay.

I went down the ladder in contentment. Soon, I was down at the basement. I began to approach the three Pokémon, my heart beginning to quicken. There was a short staircase down, in the basement—there were only a couple more stairs to cross. But I stopped before the staircase, unable to get myself closer to them. They were, by then, alerted at my appearance, and acted thus.

They cried at my arrival, cries of joy and identity more than anything else. I stood where I was, willing to let them go, for that was what they wanted. I couldn't go forth and take them by force, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be fast enough, nor would they be pleased to be captured that way. So I stood there, on the hard dark stone. And I watched them leave.

The first Legendary Pokémon I've met, and I allowed them to get away.

It wasn't a conscious decision—it simply felt right. I just knew, as I stood before that rocky staircase, that it wasn't my time yet.

And so, I watched Entei and Raikou left. Suicune left as well, but before he did he went directly in front of me. He was so close, I could see the wind softly rustling his teal blue fur, the sadness in its eyes. As I looked on, I realized that it was _my_ sorrows, _my_ despair, that were contained in its solemn red eyes. The emotions in its eyes were reflections of my own, and I caught my breath at the misery it contained.

I watched speechlessly as it jumped away and left with the others. I stood in place, breathless. The desolation that lurked in Suicune's eyes haunted me, because I knew much too well where it came from. I knew the story behind the sadness, and the details of it teared me apart all over again. Though the tearing came more gently this time, with the pieces remaining large, and I realized that I had unintentionally shared my suffering with Suicune. Suicune had lightened the burden on me, some way or another. It had come to me, asking to share my grief, something I couldn't fathom to understand. Who cared about me? How can it...just _know?_

At first, I was barely aware of Eusine walking next to me. When I was aware, however, I tensed. I wondered if he would get angry at me for disturbing the Legendary Pokémon.

Instead he began to speak in a soft voice, almost encouraging. The voice loudened in exhilaration as our conversation went by.

"Did you see it?" he said. "Suicune raced by like a blur, right in front of my eyes!"

His childish enthusiasm made me recover from my momentary dejection. I looked at him, duly noting the barely restrained excitement in his eyes.

"I have been chasing Suicune for almost ten years, but I have never been this close! I'm all choked up!"

"Hey," I said slowly. "I know that this may be a bit sudden, but...do you know Falkner?"

"Falkner?" Eusine said. "From Violet City?"

"That's the one."

"Why, he's my second cousin! How did you know?"

"Just a thought."

"Ah." Eusine blinked and examined me. "Wait, _you are_ Lyra, right? Falkner was talking about you during the most recent family reunion. He was crying. Something about rejection?" Realization dawned on his face. "You ran away when he asked for your number."

"Well," I blurted out awkwardly, "wasn't Suicune _so_ amazing? Did you see the way he looked at me?"

"Ah, yes!" he said. "It was clear to me that Suicune took notice of your presence. Ecruteak's legendary Pokémon are said to come to people only when they recognize their talents."

"Not all that people say is correct." My voice came out sounding hollow.

"Still...perhaps I should be more aggressive towards Suicune..."

"Please. Don't do that."

Eusine shook off the thought. "Anyway, Lyra, we will meet again!"

He sped off.

Right on cue, I got a phone call from Joey.

"Lyra, howdy!"

How many Western movies does that boy watch?

"It's Joey, how are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"As fit as a fiddle. Oh yeah, I took down a Weedle in the wild the other day."

"So?"

"_So_, it was a cakewalk."

"You can't honestly expect it would be difficult."

"Well, I guess it can't be helped, us being so tough. All right. Later!"

And that was the end of that conversation.

* * *

**Food for thought**

**(A ridiculously dramatic, present tense extra)**

The wood creaks under my feet. There are patches in the floor that reveal the basement, and the charred wood is tainted with the smell of fire. A great fire had ravaged this tower, rendering it in the condition it is in now...

I see, to the distance, a Poké Ball. It is small and frail looking, and a wave of determination hits me. Cautiously, I begin to walk to the Poké Ball. My heart thunders in my chest as the wood underfoot shifts slightly.

"Don't worry, us fire breathers know what to do!"

I yelp and jump back, almost to my death! It is a man breathing fire, right in an ancient historical building that can collapse in minutes! I scream, though there is no escaping it—there is no escaping my doom! I was fated to battle in a match of fire and poison. I play with wits, fighting the poison and fire with ESP. I win, which is somehow not a surprise.

The man looks up at me, his stomach plunging and smoke appearing in wisps near his mouth. As he speaks, tufts of fire brush off into the air.

"Thanks for such a heated battle!"

"What?" I snap. "Why do you tempt fate in this godforsaken place?"

The man frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"This place has been burned. Why must you breathe fire in it?"

"The reason this tower's burned is that it was hit by lighting. The fire I'm breathing is tiny in comparison..."

Oh.

After that, I get a phone call from a boy named Todd. He says that his Psyduck is looking more and more like him.

Humanity is taking a dark turn.


	13. My Teenage Angst Peaks

"Where did you say you're from?" the clerk asked.

"New Bark Town," I repeated.

"That's the town where...Professor Elm lives, right?"

"Quite right."

"You've come a long way to get here."

* * *

My mother spent my money again. Again, she hanged up before I got to say a word.

As is my way, I was venturing to observe Ecruteak's surrounding areas before even beating the Gym Leader. You know, for the training and all.

At first glance, Route 38 was like the typical route, with all its lush grasses and expectant Trainers. Still, there was a resolve in me that strengthened upon entering the route—that wasn't typical. The blood flowing through my veins quickened with the knowledge that I still had quite the ways to go. My raw, grim determination propelled me forward with growing commitment. Which is actually pretty weird, because I rarely feel committed to anything.

In truth, I felt that my newly made commitment to the world of Pokémon was made by a mere haste, on my end. My mother, out of the blue, had volunteered me for some kind of experiment, and I just...pretty much went with it. Now I don't know how to feel about that—is that good thing? Is my mother recovering from Kris and my father's death? Or does she simply want me out of the house, for her own twisted reasons? My thoughts arrived at the cocktail parties I've overheard from the phone, and my resolve hardened.

It's _fine_ if my mother doesn't want me. Because all my Pokémon do, and some other people also do. I will find strength in their relationships, if I can't in my mother's.

I called my mother back to tell her that she won't be saving my money anymore. There was no way to keep the harshness out of my voice. It slipped into my voice much too naturally, and by the time I uttered the sentence it was too late.

On the other end there was a resonating silence. I caught my breath. I waited.

Then, quietly, she spoke.

"Okay, Lyra. I won't save your money anymore."

She didn't sound wounded. But for some reason, I felt wounded. I hanged up on the call feeling empty inside.

I shouldn't have gotten angry at my mother.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Chapter 13 is short enough. I figured that I didn't need to wait an entire week before posting this.


	14. Bad Boys Don't Fall into Crates of Fish

As I headed into Route 39 with all those angry thoughts behind me, I saw this guy.

He was the older-man-with-a-brown suit type. Seriously, where do these older men find their fantastic, travel weary clothing? Regular department stories do not supply such rugged clothing, and used stores don't sell a million of one thing...I think. I usually buy new clothes from the mall.

Anyways, _the guy._

"Oh! What you are holding is...what they call...a Pokédex."

I blinked. "I'm not holding my Pokédex right now."

"Well, it's sticking out of your bag. So pretend you are."

"Okay."

"Anyway. I haven't seen one of those in ages."

"Ah, right...now who are you?"

"My name is Baoba."

"Baoba?"

"Yes. I used to own a Safari Zone at Fushsia City, but it was becoming out of date with new entertainment options coming out."

"Yikes." I studied the man, from head to toe. Life on the streets had made him rough. Any bloke could tell that.

"I decided to go overseas to learn the newest technology," Baoba continued, "and open a state-of-the-art Safari Zone in Cianwood."

"That location's not so hot," I warned. "Isn't Cianwood way over, near the sea?"

"Yes. Perfect summer vacation hotspot!"

"What about the rest of the year?"

"I'll deal with that when it comes."

"Um...okay."

Baoba paused in consideration, before warmly smiling at me. "It may be more than coincidence that we are chatting. It may even be fate! Why don't we register each other's numbers in the Pokégear? I'll give you a call when the Safari Zone is opened."

If I was Holden Caulfield, I would've thought of him to be a "phony," but since I'm not, I registered Baoba's phone number. Hey, I've got _some_ faith in the world...although I don't always show it.

As I walked on I saw that photography guy—I allowed him to take my picture, even though the background was nothing more than a farm. I was in the countryside, plain and simple. Green hills loomed on the horizon. Miltanks frolicked about a small pasture, confined in by classic white fences. I supposed that the log cabin that overlooked it was the farmer's house. I knocked on the door and I had my answer in a middle-aged man with a dusty shirt. He commented, rather casually, on his cows—"they ain't givn' milk n'more," as he put in.

I was barely able to understand him, considering my background. New Bark is as much country as city, and I went to boarding school in the city during the schooling months. Still, I managed to get out of him that his cows need some berries. Perhaps their nutrition was lacking?

Out in the stables, there was a stall with twin girls and one cow. The girls looked apologetic and stressed out. The cow was sick. It weakly cried out. My insides torn with pity, I gave the cow all the Oran Berries I had (it was the only berry it would accept). It wasn't enough, so I left the place with a heavy heart. I probably should have grown a bunch of Oran Berries and_ then_ gave it stuff, but I couldn't help myself.

I headed south to Olivine from there, coming across a sailor. He'd told me that he'd just recently got back to Olivine. So why did he immediately challenge me to battle? Sheesh, he should've return to the city and check out what's new, not waste time battling with me.

Anyway, he gave out a loud cry after his defeat, the outcome which I had so coldly orchestrated. I studied him before asking him a thing or two about Olivine. I found out there was a Gym Leader there, which sounded interesting enough so I continued south. The other two Trainers there had about as much sense as the sailor did—one of them asked me if it's okay to brag about his Pokémon. The answer was that it wasn't okay, because Kitty knocked it out with one hit. The third one saw me win against the other one, yet still challenged me. This baffled me to no end, because she had the same Pokémon as the other one and hers was less powerful, too. Way I view it, she should've known she wouldn't win. I asked her on it.

She laughed. "I don't mind losing."

I gaped at her. Finally I said, "Your Pokémon feel pain. How can you not understand that?"

She paled, and I left her.

And so, onward to Olivine!

It was a happy little place, with the sea at one side and the ground paved with pretty gray mosaics. I could hear, from the distance, the faint calls of ships. At the town square, there were clothing lines above me, thoughtfully decorated with the flags and boastful banners. To my right was the Gym, and to the distant left I could see a large, prominent lighthouse. Even from far away I could see the small dots of humans standing near the lighthouse, some of them pacing in a strangely agitated manner.

I turned towards the Gym. And I paled. All my happiness faded away as I stared at the Gym, or rather, the angry young "gentleman" that got out of it. This "gentleman" had the kind of confident aura usually only bad boys in romances had, though the aura was considerably dampened simply by examining him. His oily flaming red hair, long for a boy, was messed up by the sea breeze. (His hair appeared way too tangled to look attractive.) There was also a rather large strawberry yogurt stain on the front of his black jacket. On top of that, his shirt was too short and to be honest, it kind of made his thin body look fat for some reason. The style must not have suited him, or something. There was even ketchup smeared around Pikachu Boy's mouth, giving him the odd appearance of a Halloween vampire.

As I watched him from afar, I knew that he was oblivious to these obvious flaws in his appearance.

He came over to me, and said nothing. All he did was stare at my face intently.

I cleared my throat. "You can stop staring at me. I assure you, I'm alive."

Finally, Pikachu Boy spoke.

"You again?"

"I could say the same towards you," I said. "And if you want to battle again, so soon after that last defeat, I'll—"

"You shouldn't be so tense, bitch," Pikachu Boy commented. "I don't bother with wimps like you."

"Don't make me laugh at you again."

"Well, the city's Gym Leader isn't here, and is apparently taking care of a sick Pokémon."

"Thank you for telling me, little one. Now run along to the Pokémon Center. I'm sure they need to know about that, too."

Pikachu's face flushed red. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for the rant to come in. It did.

"Humph! Boo-hoo! Let the sick die. If they can't battle, they are worthless!"

" 'Kay, now stop talking to me," I said, beginning to get irritated again. My rudeness towards Pikachu Boy is quite staggering at times, but that boy can't stop infuriating me.

I think it was the space between me and Pikachu that was getting to me—my hat was touching his forehead, do you know? We were walking circles around the Pokémon Gym because I kept trying to get away from him. Pikachu was probably thinking that I was "antisocial," or shit, but I wasn't having any of it. I thought he was as pushy as hell. So there were some great lapses in our conversation as we kept edging away and to each other.

It didn't exactly help that I was blushing. I wanted to tell Pikachu Boy so badly that he had ketchup on his face right then, but I wasn't sure how to say that without feeling embarrassed myself. Also, now that I was close enough, I could tell that one hard downward tug on his shirt would fix the poking out stomach problem, and that the yogurt on the jacket was still wet and easy to clean off. Pikachu, however, seemed to _completely_ misunderstand the reason of my blushing. He had this taunting, daredevil grin all of a sudden, because he thought that I fucking liked him. I don't think I've _ever_ been more misunderstood, period.

"You know, you should train at the lighthouse," Pikachu said, still smiling, his sticky right hand brushing against my left hand. The sad thing was, I think he did that on accident.

I awkwardly limboed away, hardly aware of what I was doing until my spine started to ache.

"It might just make you a better Trainer!" Pikachu was saying, with an absurdly cheerful look present on his face.

"Just go away," I actually blurted out.

Pikachu was _still_ smiling. He just couldn't stop. He must have thought that I loved him so much, I couldn't stand to be around him in fear of embarrassing myself. So he ended up humiliating _himself_ with that terrible assumption. He started to walk backwards, away from me, with a flamboyant and idiotic smile on his face. I inanely watched him.

"O_kay_, then," he told me in a singsong voice. "I'm go_ing_ a_way_."

I must've looked like I was about to cry. I was trying to hold back my laughter, you see. So I ended up leaning against the Gym, choking back laughter. Pikachu must have thought that I was choking back tears, so he kind of hesitated. But then he got even _more_ certain that I was passionately in love with him.

In fact, he was so preoccupied watching my "sorrow," he walked backwards into a cart of fish that some sailor was moving. Screaming, he flopped downwards like a rag doll into a pile of fish and some blood. The merchant started yelling mercilessly at Pikachu, trying to shove him off, but Pikachu was stuck. There was some trillion pound fish that was lying on top of his leg.

I was so shocked, I didn't even react. I just rubbed my eyes and stared at the dirty and tearful Pikachu in disbelief. I have seen many things in this world, but I have never seen anybody as uncoordinated, pathetic, or as hapless as Pikachu, ever. That boy's got a gift for the theater, I think. Whatever he needs to act up won't live up to _this_.

I probably should have helped him, but my mind was utterly blank with incredulity. So all I did was stand and gap at the little bastard with my arms crossed in an undignified leadership position.

The cart turned the corner, and Pikachu was pushed out of the cart by a furious Machop in tights. For a few moments, Pikachu Boy sat on the floor, flabbergasted. He smelled of fish and was wearing some, too. He looked right at me with wide eyes, then paled before running off dramatically towards the opposite direction. There were tears in his eyes, either from the total humiliation or the stinky odor of the fish.

So he went away.

Good riddance.

* * *

Do not think go away thinking I am completely heartless. No, I feel bad for him, all right. He's now stinking like it's nobody's business, on top of everything else. I pity him, and I pity the person he stands next to in the grocery store also.

There are no good showers around here when you're on your Pokémon journey. My socks can tell you that much.

* * *

**Author's Note**

There was a _Catcher in the Rye_ reference, did you catch it?

I didn't actually like that book. But I cannot deny its influence on this fanfic.


	15. The Art of Unprofessionalism

I went to the lighthouse, all right. How can I miss such an important tourist hotspot?

Here, I'll make a poem—

(The text of the poem is unreadable. There are several watery bites into the page, and so, the page was soaked and the ink ran.)

Meh. I showed my totally awesome poem to Lorcan. He apparently didn't like it, so he bit it. His mouth wouldn't let go until I bribed him with cola. What a jerk.

I guess I have to write an actual journal entry again, because I kind of forgot what I wrote in the poem.

So anyway, there were plenty of Trainers at the lighthouse. The thing about some of them was that they automatically made assumptions of me, and it was pretty weird how they made them. For example, I fought against a bird keeper who accused me of not caring about the sick Pokémon (basing it off shaky assumptions, of course). I didn't really say anything about the sick Pokémon during or before the battle we had after he made the remark. After the battle, the bird keeper came to the conclusion that I really did care! But I said freaking nothing the entire time. Unless he can judge my love of Pokémon by the way I shout, "Kitty, extrasensory!"

Otherwise, I don't know what kind of thought process that boy is under.

After that business, I battled a couple more times, then went out a door. I was so causal about it, I didn't realize until too late that the "door" I went out of was actually a huge window.

I fell gracefully onto my feet.

I think it's some kind of miracle that I didn't break my leg, or something. I fell a great distance down, so I heard my ankle crack a little bit once I made contact with the ground. It didn't break, though. Unfortunately, a badly sprained ankle wasn't much better, so I ended up limping around to the door back inside. Lorcan was the one with me at the time, so of course, he took everything perfectly in stride. As I wobbled around pathetically, Lorcan snorted and walked on without me. He got into a lot of battles too—I found him nibbling on sailors' shoes, releasing a bird keeper's birds, and pushing down old antique ladders. He wanted to get attention from the ladies for being a bad boy. I told him that was ridiculous and that nobody likes assholes, but he didn't listen. He'd listened to too many cliché romances on the radio.

When I finally got to Jasmine, the Gym Leader, I found her "busy" attending the sick Pokémon. She was, in truth, not doing anything. All Jasmine was doing was idly staring at the Pokémon, having this concerned look on her face that never resulted in responsible actions. She mentioned to me about getting medicine, but she couldn't get medicine herself for...whatever reason. Personally, I felt like somebody else could watch the sick Pokémon while she went out and got medicine. Or the other way around. The Trainers of the lighthouse seemed to care about their Gym Leader, but they're apparently too dumb to do anything.

Anyway, the medicine was said to be located at Cianwood, which is way over the sea. I got Lorcan to learn the move Surf, so he can surf over the water and get us to that town (after I beat Morty, of course).

Well, Lorcan completely took it the wrong way. He thought that I taught him the move so that he could become some kind of hot surfer, or whatever. Apparently he thinks surfing will cause him to be popular with the ladies.

I was exhausted by Lorcan alone. He kept slowing down as we walked back to Ecruteak so he could look out into the bushes and try to find somebody (preferably female) to impress. It looked as ridiculous as it sounds. I got him back in his Poké Ball and took out the timid Cinder instead. Cinder was quiet, as usual, but as we walked, all I could think about how it was a good thing he wasn't female. God knows what kind of nonsense Lorcan would be up to if one of my Pokémon was female.

Especially if that female happened to be in his egg group. I shudder just to think of it.

Add my sprained ankle to the complicated walking equation, and it took me hours to get back. The evening turned to night as I walked back to Ecruteak. The oil lamps next to the old houses were flickering peacefully as I made my way back to the Gym, walking again on the stone paved roads. The darkness seemed to turn even darker as I plunged myself into the dimly lit Gym. I was only too aware of the rushing water below me, its whispers in the murkiness chilling down my spine as I looked forward to pitch black darkness...

* * *

Morty's Gym

Safety: 4/10

Goddamn stupid design, safety wise. Darkness...on a thin path surrounded by fast water? Who designed this crappy Gym? Are they out of their minds? There is some kind of forcefield, so I'll give them a little bit of credit. But, in all honesty, there'll be a day when that forcefield _doesn't_ work, when the Mediums _don't_ see the person fall in...and so, get ready for the lawsuit. I'll wholeheartedly support it when it happens.

Design: 9/10

The Gym looks pretty cool, if you disregard the safety implications. The flickering lights travel around the room and obscure other parts, which gives a ghastly impression. This impression is easily comparable to the mystical strength of Ghost type Pokémon. That's a very nice touch, considering that the Gym sponsors Ghost types. Also, the platform that you stand on appears to be bamboo made, which is a pleasant throwback, considering that it must refer to Ecruteak's traditional culture.

Gym Trainers/Leader: 10/10

The Gym Trainers, who were Mediums, were nice people (albeit a bit on the eccentric side). The Gym Leader was a showy guy, although he was interesting. Still, I must give him full credit for not attempting to sue me. More on that later...

Average Score: 8/10

* * *

"I see a shadow of the person that will provoke the legendary rainbow-hued Pokémon," Morty said to me mysteriously as we faced each other.

"Really?" I said, feeling flattered.

"Yes. I believe that person is me!"

"Um...what do I have to do with this again?"

"You're going to help me reach that level! I need to become the strongest Trainer in the world in, um, five years, and you're just a stepping stone in my way. My plan is to beat seventy Trainers by November, and then continue on from there. You're going to help me finish my goal. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh, shut up," I blurted out. I honestly thought that the Gym Leaders were here for the other way around. _They're_ supposed to help _me_, the challenger, get stronger. Now that I had a sudden awakening to what the real situation was, I started to feel weird.

"I need Suicune more than you do," Morty said, clearly irritated by my lack of cooperation. "I was _born_ to capture it...to call it my own..."

I narrowed my eyes and directed Lorcan forward.

We had to battle, of course. I needed that badge, which meant that to an extent, I needed Morty. I just had to never bring up the subject of legendary Pokémon in his presence again.

After I won the battle, Morty gazed at me in stunned defeat. I smiled at him triumphantly.

"I see..." he said with surprising calmness. "The one the Kimono girls were talking about is...you..."

"What?" I said. "How can you people just _know_ about those kind of things? I've just met you."

"You know what? Never mind. You should head to Olivine City next."

I nodded importantly and accepted the badge that Morty gave me. I was just going to place it in the case I had for the badges when I realized that Lorcan was swimming in the water underneath the platform. While Morty and I were talking, he must have gotten bored and sneaked down to play in the swift waters.

I started yelling sternly at him without thinking. "Come back here! Bad, Lorcan, bad! Bad boy!"

I was shouting at him the same way one would shout a naughty dog, but Lorcan took it the wrong way again. A self-satisfied smirk began to form smugly on his face, and he kept on splashing. He splashed slowly, and carefully, just to spite me.

"_Enough!"_ I shouted.

I shot the bewildered Morty an apologetic look before releasing Kitty from his Poké Ball. I instructed Kitty on what to do, and he did it. Using his small white wings, Kitty soared over the water before picking up Lorcan in slender hands. Lorcan struggled in mid-air, threatening to bite Kitty. Kitty looked pissed off more than anything else, and he swung Lorcan over the air and onto Morty's head. (Kitty doing_ that_ part was not part of my plan, if you were wondering.) Morty started screaming and was wildly trying to swat Lorcan off, although Lorcan seemed content to munch on Morty's corn colored hair. His hair must have been very delectable.

I reached out to get Lorcan off. When Lorcan wouldn't respond back immediately, Kitty hastily kicked him in the nose. Soon, Lorcan's nose started bleeding, and it bleed all over Morty's head. Morty shrieked louder. I tried to get Lorcan in his Poké Ball, but he kept trying to eat it. I don't think I've ever been more throughly humiliated. I felt like Lorcan did a direct insult to my cooking.

The Gym Trainers would've been there by then, had they not been old nearsighted ladies in a dimly lit Gym. As the closest one was taking her sweet time trying to come here, Morty was screaming his head off and I was trying to yank Lorcan out of the same loosening head. I was also screaming simultaneously, because if God had humans evolve in the last few centuries it's to develop our prized ability to multitask.

"Stop eating Morty's head!" I shouted at Lorcan.

To be honest with you, I think that order created more problems than solved them because now Morty was yelling about losing his beautiful head and intellect. Also, Lorcan hissed at me.

God, please evolve something better in me. For all of humanity. Please.

I finally shoved Lorcan off. I bribed him with lemonade for him to stay in one place. Then I gave him a piece of my mind until Lorcan was shivering with fear. He timidly got back inside his Poké Ball.

I looked back at Morty. Morty was too confounded to even get angry at me. He was shaking, his hair tangled with blood and spit. His purple headband was on the floor, dyed with blood. He hardly realized that the ordeal was over so he curled up on the floor, swaying back and forth while whimpering pitifully. He kept muttering about snakes in a strangled voice. I realized that he must be scared of them.

Well, this was some shit the esteemed foreseer didn't anticipate.

I wasn't sure what to do about him. No amount of apologies would atone for Lorcan's absurd behavior. I decided that I had to wipe him up a bit, and as I had no towel, I took out my hat and gently swabbed Morty's hair with it. I noticed that he had a very unpleasant hair gel on, and it smelled terrible and sticked to almost everything—including my hat and hand. I kept trying to clean him up, though, because it was the least that I could do. Morty started crying, and he clutched my arms like a toddler, which was making it kind of hard for me to do a decent job at cleaning him up. His saliva rubbed off into my sleeves.

"Your...your hat," he sobbed, tugging at my sleeves.

"What about it?" I asked softly.

"It smells...like tea."

There was an awkward silence.

I patted Morty's shoulder clumsily. "Yeah, I...know."

The awkwardness then peaked into uncomfortable levels. Thank God, I was able to see by then the shadow of a Medium.

I stood up, impulsively placing my hat back on my head. It was a stupid decision, because the glop and all that hanged in front of my face. "Miss!" I said quickly. "See, there was an accident here—"

_"Go away!"_ the Medium shrieked at me._ "Stop bothering the seer!_"

"I—"

I never got to finish the sentence, because I got transported out of there so fast I didn't know I got kicked out at first. I had to go back inside the Gym and get kicked out again before I knew what happened. I guess I can't blame them. As the Trainer of that outrageous Dratini, I sorely failed at my responsibilities in training my Pokémon. It's good enough that they didn't smack me into court for a million dollar lawsuit, or something. That's what I would probably do.

After all that unnecessary drama, I headed back to Goldenrod to see how Bill fared. I was covered with spittle from both Lorcan and Morty. My ankle was still sore. I lectured Locan all the way to Goldenrod, with the plan to continue lecturing him on the way back. Lorcan was shaken by the earlier incident. And so, all he could do was give me fearful nods. I admit that I felt somewhat bad for him, but I couldn't stress how horribly he had behaved well enough. Thing is, he became an important member of the team I couldn't just give away, and I really did think he knew better. He had a special place in my heart.

I was passing through Goldenrod's northern gate when I was stopped by the clerk.

"Excuse me, kid! I got this letter from an old friend of mine. I replied right here, but I can't send it. Can you deliver it?"

"Sure," I said, taking the Pokémon. It was a Spearow, all right, a female named Kenya.

I glanced at Lorcan curiously, seeing how he would take this new female of the team. Lorcan was tense (probably from me), but he made no movement towards Kenya, the Spearow. He barely looked at her. I relaxed, but just barely. I don't think Kenya is in Lorcan's egg group, so she can't make much of an impact on him. I'll have to see how he reacts to a female Dragon type Pokémon, or something.

At Bill's house, I was found to be received reluctantly by the household. The mother glared at me. The little sister hid under the table and covered herself with a tablecloth. The father stared at me from the corners of his eyes before silently excusing himself. Bill, however, was pleased. He strolled to me in evident joy.

"I'm related to Oak!" he exclaimed. "I really can't believe it, this is such big news, apparently when I was born—"

"So I was right?" I interrupted.

He nodded. "For your correct assumption, you deserve a prize." He handed me a Poké Ball.

I shot Bill a questioning look as I fingered the Poké Ball.

"A female Eevee," Bill said.

I smiled sheepishly. "Thanks—"

I accidentally dropped the Poké Ball on the floor and there it was, the Eevee, sitting in Bill's living room. It was a pretty little thing, with bushy caramel colored fur, and doe-like chocolate brown eyes. It gazed up at me in curiosity.

"Aw, it's adorable," I told Bill.

"So you'll take it? Nickname it?"

"Sure. It...looks like a Miranda."

Miranda wrinkled her tiny little nose at me. It was so cute, there were tears in my eyes due to the ongoing wanting of cuddling it.

I nodded to Bill. "I'll take her."

I then left the house before Bill told me the rest of his life story.

* * *

**Author's Note**

School has started. Already there's been some delays getting chapters up. But I'll try to get things up faster.


	16. Get the Toy, Now Leave Me Alone

"Lorcan, we may be lost, but uh...yeah, we're lost," I finished lamely.

Lorcan scowled at me, his long tail twisting forward.

"What? You think that's the way out...that's ridiculous, Lorcan. We already went that way, that's the way we're trying to get _away_ from...huh? You think there's no way I'll get us to the way we need to go? See, that's rude. My sense of direction may be bad, but..."

Yeah, I had nothing. Lorcan looked at me pointedly. I looked away pointedly in return. Wait, does that mean that Lorcan won the argument? That's nonsense...! Right...?

We got deeper into the Union Cave, and deeper. We surfed through lakes and walked on harsh rocky ground, all to deliver Kenya's goddamn letter. The Trainers were exceptionally hard to beat, harder than Morty, at least. It was absurd on how poorly my Pokémon were performing—Lorcan, Kitty, and Cinder, that is. Miranda was too young to even consider more advanced forms of battle, and I didn't feel right using Kenya, considering that I had to return her later.

I came across a good amount of water, all under the heavy shades of the cave. A Lapras was swimming in it. I captured that Lapras, if you could imagine—I needed some more Pokémon to help get through the cave. The Lapras, named Hamako, was female. She also turned out to belong in Lorcan's egg group.

Once that was realized, there was a chill coming down my spine. Lorcan had aided in Hamako's capture, and I was too distracted by those thoughts temporarily to realize that I was utterly, completely doomed:

Kitty was paralyzed and low on health.

Cinder was asleep, and in even worse health than Kitty.

Lorcan was paralyzed and not much better.

Kenya was in low health, from just one hit from a Raticate.

Hamako was asleep, and not in the best health either.

And Miranda was too young.

There was no more Super Potions, or Potions of any kind expect maybe one Revive and two Antidotes. Nor were there any Repels or Escape Ropes.

So once I realized that I was doomed, I of course started screaming and started running off to get out of the cave as soon as humanely possible (my maturity has clear limits). Kenya aided with the escapes from wild Pokémon quite nicely, but one Raticate's bite got her to collapse on her knees. Kenya ended up fainting. I had to take out Kitty because of that.

I stared at the Raticate with all the hatred I could muster. The Raticate glowered at me in aggression, separating its tooth to show its sharp, bloody teeth. On impulse, I took Kitty's Clefairy doll and randomly threw it in the opposite direction.

"Go get it, you ass!" I shouted out at the Raticate. Raticate needed no further encouragement—it scampered off to gallop to the Clefairy plush, which was now tumbling down into the darkness.

From the distance, I heard a splash into the lake's chilling waters. Then another splash followed. All became silent as the water stilled back into its deep serenity. Kitty and I was stunned for a few moments. Then the peace was disturbed by a crashing torrent of tears.

"I'm sorry, Kit," I said. The sound of my naturally sarcastic voice only made Kitty more miserable, so I had to shut up immediately.

The loss of his beloved Clefairy doll had made Kitty weak to his knees. His little eyes glittered with tears as he sobbed, screeching ceaselessly with spurts dramatic enough to suit Gym Leader Brock's womanizing aftermaths.

I hesitated for a few minutes. I wasn't sure I was supposed to transport this living soap opera around.

But then, dammit, I didn't stop. I grabbed Kitty's hand and we got the hell out of there.

* * *

Despite Lorcan's lack of confidence in me, we managed to get out of the Union Cave alive. Well, barely, but it's the end result that matters, right?

I sped past Violet City. Or at least, I would've. I was stopped by the shameless Falkner. The only thing that resulted positively from that encounter was running exercise. Heck, I may even fulfill the daily one hour physical activity recommendations from gym teachers. I'm at a _wonderful_ pace so far.

Well, I lost the race. I'm so out of shape, I suppose it was an achievement that I ran for a minute at all. Falkner caught up with me pretty well. I'm guessing he's used to running—birds get out of bird cages all the time. I would not be surprised if Falkner has daily running exercises to practice recapturing birds. After all, he's always uttering some random ultimate bird keeper crap. I'll be polite and assumes he practices more than he talks.

So he ran up to my sweaty and panting body quickly enough. However, on strangely good timing, I got a phone call from a guy named "Irwin." I didn't remember that guy particularly, because I just give out my number to whoever asks, since my safety standards aren't exactly the best. Anyway, I answered the call. Irwin on the other end just kept gushing on me beating Morty. I had no idea how he found out, but I pretended like I knew that because Falkner was right in front of me with this oddly saddened face on. I was so dense at the time, I didn't even know why Falkner was so upset. Still, I kept at humoring Irwin. (I figured that Falkner was abruptly remembering something awful or shit.)

"You beat Morty of Ecruteak Gym! Th—that's just incredible!" Irwin exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Morty..._we're the best of friends_." I was thinking that if I said that, Irwin wouldn't mention the "accident." Well, Falkner didn't know that.

"I actually went to the Gym's entrance to cheer you on," Irwin continued.

"Wow, Irwin. _You're so devoted._" I thought that if I sounded nice, I would halt the sudden bout of paranoia that was spreading inside of me.

Falkner looked like he was going to faint by then. I slowly lowered the phone.

"Falkner? You okay?" I was so dense, I would probably sink in water from the sheer measure of it.

Falkner painfully swallowed and looked away. I lifted the phone.

"But when I went to the Gym," Irwin was saying, "everyone had these candles on, like, their heads. It was kinda creepy, so I chickened out and took off for home."

I laughed. "Ah, okay."

"Call you later!"

We hanged up.

Falkner gaped at me. "Who was that?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Some fan."

"Some _fan_?"

"Yes. I'm apparently very famous now."

"Does this..._fan_...call you often?"

"Very often," I said very seriously. "My fans love me." (I consider Joey to be a sad, _sad_ fan.)

"I heard him. He is a man, right?" Falkner said nervously.

"Quite."

Falkner needed some time to think on that. I waited patiently. I mean, I_ think_ I did. Ten seconds is enough, right?

Finally, Falkner spoke. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Meh," I said.

"Yes, or no?"

"What's a boyfriend?"

"Don't evade my question."

"Don't evade mine."

"Listen, how old are you?" Falkner said irritably, running a hand through his admirably hot hair.

"Sixteen."

"Then you probably know."

"I do know," I said.

"Then why...?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you say you didn't know?"

"I never said that."

"You may as well did," Falkner argued.

"No. I wanted to see what you thought what a boyfriend is."

"Well. Wouldn't I think of one the same way everybody else does?"

"Sure, okay."

"So, do you?" Falkner pressed.

"Do I what?"

In my defense, I had slept horribly the night before.

The book I was reading was much too interesting. It was about French tea.

* * *

Falkner had to leave after that because one of his cousins started to desperately screech out his name. Apparently, one of Falkner's badly trained birds began to attack the cousin with vicious strength. Falkner asked for my number. I refused. So Falkner had to run off with a disappointed look on his face, and Kitty placed a bucket on Cinder's head. All seemed well.

Lorcan viewed Hamako with a slight curiosity, and nothing more. To be frank, Cinder was showing more interest in Hamako than Lorcan was. It was a pretty sudden change in behavior, on both the parts of Cinder and Lorcan. So I came up with two conclusions for both of them—Cinder was outgrowing the awkward teenager phase (at least a little bit), and the earsplitting lecture I had given Lorcan yesterday sank in pretty well.

When I mean that Cinder was showing interest in Hamako, I don't mean it a romantic manner; rather, it seemed to have more of a platonic meaning to it. Cinder understandably hated water, so now there's this Pokémon on our team who practically lives for it. Lorcan was fond of water but not as excessively as Hamako. Hamako was another business whatsoever, promoting a lifestyle that Cinder was completely contrary to. I suppose that I should be happy that Hamako was greeted with curiosity rather than hostility. Hamako herself made the curiosity mutual among them. It was probably the fire butt that did it. Upon taking all of my Pokémon out to take a much needed bath, the two approached each other tentatively and seemed to communicate with each other.

I guess it's better than, let's say, trying to _eat_ each other.

Because that's what Miranda tried to do to Kenya.

You see, I have kind of forgotten that I was dealing with animals. Despite Lorcan's occasional "I'm a bad boy so I gonna eat ya'll" moments, they act a bit like humans. Extremely misguided humans with bizarre biologies, but still. My Pokémon had generally outgrown the childish, animal-like stage.

Miranda, however, was too young to possess this kind of self-assuring persona, so here she was, shitting in all the wrong places and bitting up my already badly abused hat. Also, she tried to eat some of my other Pokémon. First, she thought Kitty was some big egg creature that was meant to bake into pancakes or something, then she thought that Kenya—God, I don't even _know_ what she thought Kenya was. Chicken wings?


	17. The Lying Oddish

Lorcan has been reading young adult vampire romances.

How come I'm not surprised?

But to be honest with you, I'm not even sure where he got a copy. He claims he got them from me, although I cannot remember if I had ever bought them. I mean, I don't _think_ I had. I have a memory that's sometimes good, and sometimes bad, but I'm pretty I would remember if I had ever gone a shopping spree to buy fifteen different paranormal romances all at once. I'm not even that big a fan of the genre, much less read a single book.

I confiscated Lorcan's books, and then I locked them all up inside the Dark Cave. Lorcan was pissed, but not by much because he'd already read them all.

A bit irrelevant, but I can't believe that Lorcan taught himself how to _read_. I haven't even read my summer reading book once this summer, but Lorcan was motivated enough to listen to the dramas and teach himself English. It's kind of weird feeling that Lorcan is smarter than me—but then he forgets to flush the toilet or something, and I feel much more better about myself.

I know, I'm quite the shallow one when it comes right down to it. In my defense...you know what? Forget I said anything.

Anyway, I managed to successfully return Kenya to her owner without her having to lose a wing or something. It was a brilliant achievement, and it was just enough encouragement for me to tackle Miranda's training. Miranda is okay in battle. I mean, she doesn't give up the going is tough. And her bravery in the face of Bellsprouts is admirable. I can tell that she'll be a great member of the team one day, as long as she keeps herself focused. Keeping herself focused is something hard for her to do—that is, she is too young to concentrate all of the time, and it impairs her ability to battle. I had similar problems with Kitty, but while Kitty has a hot blooded streak, Miranda is merely flighty and just...young. I think she must have been a household pet before, or something. Her introduction to battle came later in childhood than the others.

While I was focusing on getting Miranda to focus, Kitty started to get jealous. We were still stationed at Violet City to train Miranda by then. Hours and hours of Bellsprout fighting went on, with the occasional help from Miranda's designated training buddy, Cinder.

"Let's go, Miranda!" I called out. "Tackle that walking plant!"

Miranda nodded. It was one of those few, magical moments when she was completely focused on her task. Her eyes were drawn in with such intensity, she could make heat vision burn through the ground. She smeared her soft paws onto the ground so fiercely, the dirt rubbed off and made her look rugged. Her opponent, the stupid walking plant, merely watched. It was probably paralyzed with fear.

I grinned. I really couldn't help myself. _This is going to be so awesome,_ I thought, as Miranda braced herself for the close combat. Miranda seemed to smile herself as she launched into the air, about to slash down, when—

—Kitty ran in front of her, his Poké Ball dropping on the ground next to my shoulder bag. Miranda gasped and slipped, landing headfirst on a pile of mud. I gaped at Kitty in confusion as he used ESP on the Bellsprout. The Bellsprout fainted from the tension, its slender body falling onto the mud with Miranda.

Kitty looked at me triumphantly.

I was still gaping at him in confusion.

Miranda got up from the mud, casually shaking it off. Then she looked at Kitty, and her gaze steadily lingered.

She was staring at him.

Cinder blinked and shook himself awake after his nap. Everybody was staring at Kitty by then, so Cinder knew where to look. Cinder paused, then gazed at Kitty. Cinder's eyes narrowed because he was just about to sneeze.

Kitty looked away because he was beginning to feel self-conscious.

"Kitty," I began. "That fight was—" (Cinder sneezed)"—for Miranda." I gestured to Miranda wildly, so that if Kitty didn't remember who Miranda was there was a pretty good hint for him to take.

Kitty nodded.

"Hey...you are listening, right?"

Kitty nodded.

I pursed my lips together, not sure how I was supposed to do deal with this. Finally, I got him back into his Poké Ball—he had to promise me that he wouldn't involve himself in battles that weren't meant for him. I gave him some time after Miranda's practice to have him train a bit, just to indulge him.

He was still pretty showy, all that afternoon. Whenever Miranda and I shared a bonding moment, Kitty would bump in and try to mimic the exact same circumstances with me. Baffled, Miranda and I would simply stare at him and make him self-conscious again with our empty gazes and only occasional blinks. It was a vicious circle that only kept going, powered by jealousy and the fainting of stupid Bellsprouts. Miranda didn't take a hint during the entire ordeal. So she was reduced to thinking that Kitty was some kind of weird, attention seeking, celebrity wannabe.

It came to a time when I had stopped for dinner. I sat on the grass with all my Pokémon as I took out some sandwiches that were prepared that morning. I remembered everybody's favorite flavors, so I didn't understand what the fuss was all about when Kitty and Hamako turned up their noses on their sandwiches.

Kitty's sandwich was, uh, vegetarian flavored. Hamako had a seafood flavored sandwich. Whatever that meant.

To be honest with you, I didn't make the sandwiches at all. I bought from one of the Amish. It's very long story that nobody's got time for, but basically, this Amish was randomly selling sandwiches in the middle of the forest for almost no reason at all. Almost no reason, because he liked money. Apparently, money smells very nice to him—I wouldn't know. Well, that Amish man had to sell things in secret.

Frankly, I don't know much about the Amish, but that Amish in particular looked odd. He was extremely short, and was shaped like a plant bulb, and he had leaves sticking out of his hand. He had no hands, so he did everything with his feet. It was peculiar. Still, he told me he was Amish, so I had to believe him.

Anyway, I was just thinking about how sneaky that particular Amish looked like when Kitty and Hamako refused to eat their sandwiches. I mean, he had little red eyes that glowed in the darkness, which is _kind_ of ominous. I try not to judge people by their appearance, but the image of that odd little Amish man was stuck in my head as I lectured Kitty and Hamako to eat.

Lorcan didn't react at all to this turmoil. He had spent all his time preoccupied about the radio and drama. I had no idea what he was doing until I made a random glance at his direction and there he was, propped up against a radio and listening intently to some crying adolescent male who had recently been dumped by his girlfriend. I'm not sure how I missed the crying from the radio before, but then again, I was occupied with...other things. (Such as the consumption of carrot cakes.)

Anyway, I decided to shut Lorcan's radio off because it was evidently a horrible, horrible influence on him. Lorcan hissed at me most fiercely when I did that. His tiny face was drawn in with insolence as he stuck out his minuscule pink tongue at me.

I quietly placed the radio into my bag. Lorcan started trying to jump up and down, but it was kind of hard thanks to his snakelike body. So everybody spent the rest of their lunch casually watching Lorcan trying to jump up and down. In fact, Kitty and Hamako were so distracted, they ate their disgusting sandwiches.

Lorcan's struggle to jump successfully caused him to forget exactly what he was jumping for, so he had to stop and think it over again.

Lorcan then spent the next few minutes glowering at everybody, which did not exactly help Kitty's dignity.

I figured that we've had enough time lounging around (and that it was clearly starting to get into our heads), so we headed on the way back. By then, the sky was gradually darkening, causing eerie shadows to appear. From the distance I could see the yellow lights of a firefly sprout, its brightness deeply contrasting with the darkness behind it. Still, I wanted to get a few more Bellsprout battles for Miranda before we moved on. So, rather sluggishly, I led Miranda around the swishing grass as we waited for our next opponent. We finally stopped before a rustling field of grass. Yawning, I turned to little Miranda.

"Okay, Miranda," I began to say, my mouth separating open in wide yawns as I spoke, "let's see how you battle—"

I was caught mid yawn. My mouth stuck open I stared in disbelief at the_ thing_ in front of me. Two seconds later, I was up and running and screaming my head off.

(I rather not write the curse words I said. For one thing, I'm not sure what half of them meant. I think they were in Japanese.)

It was not a disgusting mutation of Bellsprout, although I admit that the Bellsprout are indeed disgusting. Instead, the grass had parted, revealing a vast, clawed bedtime monster that probably hid under my bed when I was little. It was some kind of lion monster, only worse. It towered over Miranda, its features only faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

I was running back and forth on a swearing fiesta, screaming at the top of my lungs, "_Fuck! Fuck this shit!"_

Without any sane guidance from me, Miranda numbly tackled DA THING FROM HELL. This caused my composure to dissolve into loud, strangled gasps and even more colorful curses, some I had made up in the spur of the dramatic moment. I was running so stupidly I tripped onto a patch of grass and skinned my damn knee all over again. My knee was bleeding like the shit, and I wondered (somewhat sanely) if the monster in front of me was attracted by the scent of blood. So I just screamed some more in case somebody might hear me and come to the rescue. Preferably an armed police officer, but well, you know. Even Pikachu Boy may work as strangely suitable bait.

Apparently my panicky screaming scared the monster away.

I can't complain much about that.

I walked some more. Then Ethan called, through the Pokégear.

His voice sounded frail. "Hey, this is Ethan. How are you?"

"Ethan?" I said hoarsely. (I'd lost my voice. Thank _you_, stupid bedtime monster.)

"You know," Ethan began, "my father was tackled by a Pokémon. Now his lower back hurts."

"Was it Marill? I told you that damn blue thing was trouble."

"It probably thought that it was only playing around..."

"Sure. I bet next time it'll have to kill someone for you to realize the truth. That thing is a piece of malice."

"Well, it wasn't anything big...the tackle, I mean. I'm sure my father will be fine in a couple more days." Ethan sounded fretful. "Right...Lyra?"

"You may need a doctor to check it out," I said mockingly in a grave voice. "Or possibly a lawyer. You must prepare for the upcoming misfortune."

"That's a _knee-slapper_. You're_ so_ good at jokes, Lyra," Ethan said sarcastically.

I didn't even know Ethan could use sarcasm, so I sobered up immediately.

"Okay, how bad is it?" I said.

"I don't know."

I frowned at that.

"Then check how bad it is and use your best judgment," I said.

"Okay."

"Honestly, though. Have you ever trained that Marill?"

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean by that? If you've never trained Maril before, then I doubt that the little idiot could do much damage."

There was an eerie silence following my statement.

"Okay," Ethan finally said. "Okay. Well, I'll talk to you later."

"Wait!" I said suddenly. "You know...uh...did you buy sandwiches from the Amish guy too?"

"Amish guy?"

"Yeah. He was at a forest. You know, the one near the Day Care Route...he was selling sandwiches and telling everyone about how Amish he is. You couldn't have missed him."

"He wasn't Amish. He was Oddish."

"He may be odd, but that was a rude thing to say."

"That was a _Pokémon_ named Oddish."

"That's ridiculous!" I said, flabbergasted. "Of_ course_ he's Amish!"

"Lyra, did you ever met an Amish person before? Or at least one that you _know_ is Amish?"

"No, but who asked you be the Amish judge? You're not Amish."

Ethan hanged up on me. He probably had enough of my inane arguments. I slipped my Pokégear back into my bag and walked on.

Well. That damn Marill finally showed what he was capable of. I care so little for Marill, I usually misspell its name half of the time. But I know that isn't the case for Ethan's family.

And never mind that stupid Oddish. I found him on the Pokédex. I'll never buy sandwiches from a lying Oddish again.

I walked to the Violet City Pokémon Center for some kind of lodging, but apparently I came too late. All the rooms were taken. I walked all the way to other Centers, only to find out they were completely booked as well. There was nowhere for me to go (Mom left for an "emergency" trip to Unova without telling me), so what happened was that I ended up sleeping at the Moomoo Farm south of Olivine.

It was not pleasant.

* * *

So what happened was that there some kind of voodoo thing going on from the psychic outside.

The farmer got so desperate to cure his cow, he asked the psychic to help him out. This was perhaps one of the worse things the farmer could have done, because the psychic stopped all of us from sleeping with his horrible taste in music. He played this song called "Old Chateau," some old Sinnoh song, and it was upsetting to sleep with that thing on. The psychic had this piano, accordion, and several other instruments dragged into the stables. The psychic brought his friends with him too, and they all played the dumb song for a couple of hours. The song itself was meh, but those people played it so loudly it was disturbing. There was a lot of jumping notes and stuff like that, so whenever I tried to fall asleep a sudden line of notes would seemingly out burst of nowhere as though a goddamn cat was walking on the piano.

After that they tried to play "Lavender Town." Emphasize on _tried_.

Now, I am okay with this song, but these people played it the worst way ever. They took the most screechiest, the most nastiest sounds, and tried to play "Lavender Town" with it. It was nothing like the way I was taught to play "Lavender Town" in Piano 101. No, these nut cases took a perfectly fine, cheerful song, and ruined it with their stupid ass accordions and gongs. I could barely recognize the real song from their messed up "Lavender Town" remake. Notes were slurred and high pitched, distorting a happy, normal song into some messed up Christmas anthem. They even added bells.

It was extremely annoying to listen to when you're trying to go to sleep on a hard wooden floor that wants to dislocate your hips.

"Make these idiots stop!" I finally blurted out to the little girls who shared the room with me. "They can't play a song to save their lives!" (I wouldn't have been surprised if the cows were considering murder.)

The girls looked doubtful. "They told Daddy they can help..." one of them said reluctantly.

I turned away from them and shoved the pillow into my face.

_Great, _I thought to myself miserably. _God help me, I'm gonna get tinnitus._

I already had a headache, so it didn't take much to think that part up.

Suddenly a bunch of voices began to loudly wail and shout. I believe that was their poor substitute for singing. Blinking my eyes, I sat up and squinted in the darkness. The psychics were doing Egyptian style dancing to the rhythm of their so-called "Lavender Town" around a bunch of Charmanders, Bulbasaurs, and Squirtles. The Pokémon were staring up at them unblinkingly. They looked pretty freaked out.

Having enough of this nonsense, I scrambled to my knees like a drunk person and began to gather my stuff. I tossed out a couple hundred Pokédollars on the floor.

"I'm leaving," I hissed to the girls as I began to stand up. "On the floor is my freaking tip. _Good night._"

Leaving the loud farmhouse behind, I came forth to the night's chilling darkness. Although the house behind me was illuminated with lights I knew that I could not possibly return there. Not with the streams of screeches that erupted from it.

Behind me Lorcan walked sluggishly, his little head facing the ground in exhaustion. I stopped in the middle of the path, a breeze slicing my face.

Where was I supposed to go? I couldn't stay outside, not with that damn monster roaming around at night. Couldn't go back inside, with those..."sounds" (I couldn't bear to think of their screeching as "music").

I was sleep deprived, and I was hungry and thirsty with an aching hip, so I decided to go ahead and sleep in a fucking cave.

I chose the Dark Cave, of course. It wasn't an especially long while away but at the same time it was far enough from the bedtime monster to satisfy me. However, it was dark. My feet were concealed by the darkness as I struggled to navigate the roads, my dimly lit Pokégear being my only light source.

Still I managed to walk through the roads, most of them flanked by woodlands. I eventually came across the Daycare route, though in the night it was masked by shadows and distant forest calls.

As I walked along the now dreadful route I spotted a police officer, a flashlight positioned firmly in his thick hands. This officer was familiar—I've seen him the last time I was at this route, though at the daytime. I brightened and began to move towards him.

"Excuse me," I started, "am I going the right wa—"

_"INTRUDER!_" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "_INTRUDER ALERT!"_

"What—"

He shoved a Poké Ball into the ground. A Growlithe appeared from it, yawning.

"Take out your Pokémon_ immediately_!" the police officer yelled, as though I was some kind of criminal to ask him for directions.

I stared at him.

"_Now!_" he insisted.

Lorcan came up in front of me, seemingly dazed. I awkwardly held my hands up out of desperation. _See? Not armed, chimp. Not armed. _

However, the officer still leered at me menacingly. I swallowed.

"Officer, will I be arrest—"

I was not able to finish the rest of my sentence. Lorcan now violently shoved the officer's Growlithe onto the ground and bit it until it fainted. I don't know _what_ paranormal romance he got_ that_ from, but it sure was disgusting either way. I gasped and reached out to restrain my out of control Dratini but it was too late. The whole thing had occurred in the timespan of a blink. And I had unfortunately blinked. There was something in my eye.

Blood from the Growlithe's mouth now dripped out and smeared onto the cold grass. I stared in horror, biting my lower lip. Lorcan became still, deathly pale in the yellow light of the officer's flashlight. The officer himself seemed at loss for words, gazing at his wounded Pokémon with a vacuous expression. The night became silent.

_WELL._

The officer blinked. "You may go," he told me slowly as he withdrawn his Pokémon.

_WHAT. _

I gazed at me, dumbfounded, before swiftly running off like the criminal I am. I went to the Daycare, knocked quickly on the door, and before waiting for a reply I barged in.

"I'm gonna sleep here for the night," I explained briefly to the staring clerk/Ethan's grandmother as I dropped into a nice,_ slightly_ comfortable corner near the door. Lorcan, the problem child because of God knows why, slithered next to me while finding joy in my warmth.

Whatever, snake. At that point I couldn't care less about what I had to do with him. He was too much trouble to train, probably more trouble to get rid of him.

So instead I curled up into a ball onto the little blanket I had spread out onto the floor.

"Lorcan," I began to say, "if something tries to kill me, tell me in advance. I need to compose my last words carefully."

Lorcan agreed.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I haven't updated for a while now. Sorry about that...

Lyra is used to hearing the Soul Silver version of Lavender Town's music. At the farmer's house she was hearing the original version of Lavender Town.


	18. The Secret Plan of Magikarp

Choices, choices! Today, I spent all morning trying to pick out which clothes to wear. I just couldn't decide. There were the blood stained, old green tea smelling overalls, or the overalls that were splattered with Cyndaquil piss. Although both had been washed by me, there was still the faint smells of their respective disasters on them. Still, they were better than nothing.

I decided on the tea smelling attire, and, dressed up with a new hat on my head, I nearly looked ready for an adventure. As my old, saliva stained hat sat discarded on the ground, I beamed proudly at the mirror. The days I looked so wonderful, alas, were almost forgotten. My Pokémon journey had been reducing me to a burrito junkie standing in microwave lines at the Pokémon Center. That day, however, I decided to eat out and wear my nicest clothing.

I was heading out to Olivine Café. Never mind that the place wasn't exactly the most fanciest place around. As far as I'm concerned, if a café besides the Pokémon Center is graced with my presence, it is the most exotically appealing place at the time.

On my way there, I made a detour and ended up getting a fishing rod. I'm not exactly sure why I got it. The guy was probably so desperate, he didn't even bother selling it for cheap. I then got the idea of using the fishing rod, so I stood at the dock and smashed the thing into the water—the bait thingy, I mean.

From cartoons, I learned that fishing is supposed to go on forever and forever until you finally get something to bite. That wasn't the case for me, and I landed my own fish in a couple of seconds. I suppose that I must be naturally gifted at fishing, or something. Maybe the fish like me.

Anyway, fishing was an awful idea, because a Magi-crap came out of the water and splashed all over me. I was splattered with water, and my new hat got wrinkled too. Then the Magi-crap splashed again, on the surface. Instead of attacking Kitty, it just kept splashing all over me. I believe that the Magi-crap was doing a strategy of clearly malicious intent. By splashing on me, it was distracting me from my duties to command Kitty. Therefore, I would become inattentive to the battle long enough for Kitty to miss up his directions. Then, skillfully, the Magi-crap would gradually lower Kitty's health to the point of defeat, and I would be soaked. These Magi-craps are more crafty than I thought. I must approach them with the most dedicated caution.

Soaked and embarrassed, I stood awkwardly at the shore as the wind chilled my damp shoulders. From my left I could see the lighthouse, where that stupid Gym Leader kneeled over a sick Pokémon—probably to perform his funeral, I don't know. If she really wanted medicine, _surely_ she could have asked her fan club to help her, right? Or at the very least, try to get the medicine herself? Sitting there and staring at the sick Pokémon isn't going to do anything. She isn't even _praying, _for goodness' sake. She can't use Christian Science as her excuse if she wants to. I'll testify against her in court if she does that.

And anyway, that Pokémon isn't on the inevitable path to death, he just got a goddamn cold. Apparently, Jasmine's fan club fails to see that on top of everything else, which in my opinion is one of the worst offenses of all. I bet most of those sailors were too busy staring at her ass to say anything about this insanity. Everybody else either went along with it, or had clouded thinking from a lack of their own intelligence.

I feel smart now. It's not as pleasant as I thought it would be.

* * *

I went to the lighthouse, told them everything I thought about the situation, and some more. Well, they booed me out with Magi-carp fish sticks. Screw them.

Because I am not stupid, and because I have a slightly kind heart, I surfed all the way to Cianwood City on Lorcan's slippery and clearly unsafe back.

It was pretty awful.

Lorcan hadn't swim five measly feet from the shore before we were attacked by a Tentacool. It just suddenly arose out of the water, swishing water against Lorcan's slender body and the girl that barely sat on it. As Lorcan's body rocked dangerously beneath me, I stared at the surface of the water feeling my poorly chosen sushi breakfast rise inside of me. I should've known that sushi breakfasts weren't to be trusted. They were the most expensive things on the menu.

Lorcan bursted forward, forcing his physical weight to clash against those of the Tentacool. I swerved back and forth, my grip causing white marks on Lorcan's fragile skin. I would've felt bad had I not fell off into the water, head butting with the stupid Tentacool immediately.

Then I threw up my sushi breakfast, and you can probably tell where my puke ended up in.

(Answer: The ocean. I hope my vomit doesn't count as pollution. People get fines from pollution, and I'm broke now because of that breakfast.)

The rest of the trip was equally annoying. I don't even want to describe it fully to you, because it was so awful. If you want to get a small idea of the whole thing, think of it like this—you're in a car, and your car abruptly stops every few feet. You jump a little bit in your seat (thank God you're wearing your seatbelt, a luxury I didn't have) and you blink and glance out of the window. Approaching your window is a ridiculous man without a shirt on, and—

I forgot how to construct the analogy.

Whatever. Let's move on.

I was soaked with salty ocean water from hat to toe, and I smelled like a piece of road kill that was discarded into the ocean because it was taking too much space on the road. When I finally reached Cianwood, I laughed hysterically. After that I puked all over the shore. Lorcan joined me in the vomit. I mean, he got some puke on...him...too...and, uh, yeah.

Well, a house near the shore happened to be the home of Cameron, this amateur photographer that spontaneously takes pictures of random people all around Johto. So when a boy found me near this doorstep, piteously moaning and leaning over my own milky colored vomit, his face became bright and cherry as his camera flashed light into my bloodshot eyes. I noticed that he made sure to include the concerned and vomited upon Lorcan at the side. The boy was apparently too uneducated to realize that was a bad touch. Or maybe he just had really poor taste.

The thing is, I knew who that kid was. He goes to my school and has taken...another unsavory picture of me.

"Bravo!" the boy exclaimed. "Wonderful! This'll be a good memory of your journey with your Pokémon!"

_"Shut up,"_ I moaned. Lorcan slid over to me a water bottle. I took it. "Thank you, Lorcan."

Lorcan purred in pleasure.

After swallowing some large gulps of the water, I glared at boy. _"Look,_ you jackass. I am more than aware of who you are, and you are perhaps very well aware of who I am—"

"You're Soul, right?" the boy interrupted.

"Yes—wait, _NO_, I am not _SOUL_, I am _LYRA_! God, you took a picture of me vomiting my guts out at the Ruins of Alph, and you don't even have the decency to remember my name."

The boy blinked. "So?"

"It's disrespectful to do things like that."

"It's not my fault you keep throwing up and look interesting doing it."

"Well, _you're_ going to be buying me medicine."

The boy made a face. "Um..."

"You have to," I said hurriedly. "It's the law."

"A_ law?"_

"Yes. The law of endangered victims of unauthorized identity risks of unauthorized photography violations. It's in, the...it's in the first amendment of the American New Year-Christmas calendar, which is clearly indicated in Section Trillion and Two of the Constitution of the Laissez-faire people. In case you don't know, the Laissez-faire people's Constitution is in effect for the territories that is within a fifty mile radius of them. Which this territory is, because it follows under the Californian borderlines for territorial German werewolf packs, which are currently under Laissez-faire rule due to the results of the American Revolutionary War. So if you don't buy me something, I'm going to report to the police and you'll end up in court, sued. I am allowed to sue you under this violation due to the Charles Darwin and Dickens effect, which was a court case preceding this one. You see, _Roberts_, money will be taken off of you either way."

The boy, who I had named Roberts, simply blinked and said nothing. He didn't seem to be an intelligent kind of bloke, thank God.

I seized his arm. "Okay, Roberts. We're heading to the pharmacy now."

I headed to a blue roofed, brown bricked building that looked reasonably important. I was pretty sure that this was the pharmacy. Turning to Roberts, I nodded.

"Now, Roberts," I said, "this is the pharmacy. Look sharp. Your entire economic situation is based on this moment. So basically, your whole life is."

"But—"

"No buts!"

I barged inside the building, one hand on Roberts's arm, the other securely on my shoulder bag—

A girl reading a book on a dining room table gazed at me. The mother writing in a notebook frowned at me. Another girl stood in front of a fridge, her back to me. Apparently she cared more about her sugar cravings than my unexpected presence.

"Soul," Roberts whispered to me, "this is somebody's_ house_."

"Uh..." I stammered. "Sorry...sorry..."

I rushed out, then rushed into the pharmacy. Correctly this time.

The pharmacy was a shaded, coffee brown colored place. Cramped, there were only a few, long shelves that lined against an orange wall, the wallpaper of which was peeling off. The curly haired clerk at the front desk had his back to the desk itself, clearly more interested in the television that stood opposite to the door. I approached the front desk tentatively. When he wouldn't turn around, I spoke right to the point.

He whirled around. "Huh? You need medicine? Your Pokémon appear to be fine."

But I recognized that guy. I recognize him better than my deceased father.

My eyes widened. "My God, aren't you the Gym guide?"

The "clerk" bit his lower lip. "Uh..."

"If you're here," I said fretfully, "who's at the Gym right now?"

"You see..."

"What if a challenger were to randomly pop up, fresh and young for battle? Their whole small, meaningless existence has been spent, training and training, and what if they were to finally come across the Gym? Surely their dreams would falter, their hopes crushed, their whole composure diminished at the fact that the Gym guide was—"

"Soul, you're weird," Roberts interrupted. "Just get the medicine and let's go."

"Hey, I'm practicing for my creative writing class," I insisted. "I take it this fall."

The Gym guide frowned at me. "You need medicine, Lyra...?"

I sighed. "The Lighthouse Pokémon is ill."

"The Lighthouse Pokémon is in trouble?"

"That is, uh...yeah, that's about what I said."

I tried to describe the symptoms as much as I could, but the Gym guide waved me off and gave me something called a "Secret Potion." I shot the guide a puzzled look.

"It's a tad too strong," he confessed. "I only really give it out in emergencies."

"How certain are you, really, that this is an emergency?" I asked cautiously. The guide didn't get a chance to answer. His favorite new show had just conveniently got on.

As Roberts began to hand money for the Secret Potion across the counter (ain't nothing's free, you know), my Pokégear suddenly rang. I glanced at it. Ian.

"Good afternoon, Lyra!"

"Um...yeah? Hi?"

"It's Ian. Were you confused? You know, I've learned a lot from watching you battle, and I've been practicing with my Diglett."

I paused in puzzlement. "Um..where exactly did you watch me battle?"

"Through windows," he answered.

"I have nearly nothing to say to that. Except, maybe, _stop stalking me_."

"But thanks to you, we've improved a lot."

"Go stalk somebody else! Stalk someone famous. You'll get more friends from fan clubs that way!"

I hanged up after that. The Gym Guide and Roberts were staring at me in confusion.

"Were you just encouraging stalking, Soul?" Roberts said in a hushed voice. "Because if you were, well...that's really wrong."

I scowled at him. "I think we should have established what my name is by now." I thought that calling him "Roberts" might help, but I guess not.

As we left the pharmacy behind, the sun's rays beginning to falter in the distant horizon, a middle-aged man in a fisher's clothing came up to us, panting. Apparently he was Roberts's father, and apparently he was also the real Cameron, the Photographer. The Cameron that I had seen everywhere else was actually the real guy's relatives pretending to be him, which made me feel mildly creeped out. And on his son, he said to me:

"I'm sorry about my son. He is very gifted, yet sometimes insensitive." He paused. "He takes after his mother."

Dead silence.

Er...all right.

I shrugged and turned away to Lorcan. Camern's eyes lit up as he took in Lorcan's amazing, awesome features

"Have you won the Cianwood Gym Badge yet?"

Well, it seems that we are going to stay in Cianwood City for just a little bit longer.


	19. We Shall Do Battle and We Shall Like It

I stood at the front of the Cianwood City Gym, squinting at the sign (it was hard to see because the sun was in my face).

So Cianwood's Gym leader's title is apparently this:

_His Roaring Fists Do the Talking_

Well, dammit, let's just get this Gym over with.

* * *

Chuck's Gym

Safety: 10/10

It's pretty safe, by nearly any means. The sides of the Gym must be crossed, and they appear to be the side of a cliff, with staircases and floors carved out of it. That's it. No cracking stone, no hidden dangers. Just regular old stupid stone that should sustain even the fattest Pokémon in the world, if it can fit on it. Underneath is water, but it's generally shallow and should have no complaint besides wet shoes. Only...beware of daydreaming. There are no railings to separate you from the fall down in case you accidentally...tumble down...

You know what, I'll change this to a 9/10.

Design: 9/10

There is a great implementation of cool colors. I especially enjoy the waterfall and cliff feature, since it was giving the Gym a more natural feel that hints at Cianwood being a tourism spot near the beach. However, one point must be taken off, because the Gym leader seems entirely too distracted by the waterfall feature. I mean, we _get_ that it's cool, but that doesn't mean that you can just launch your big butt right at it and sit there and call it "training".

Gym trainers/Gym leader: 5/10

They sucked. The Gym trainers were stupid and had to improve their catchphrases. The Gym leader doesn't know how to do his job.

Average score: 7.7/10

* * *

So I arrived at the Gym. Of course, the Gym guide wasn't there, because he was too busy watching television at the pharmacy.

Immediately I was faced with the Gym leader, who viewed the aforementioned waterfall feature as some kind of Jacuzzi hot tub. He sat there, blinking his eyes through the hot steam, and did nothing. At that point I was already in a bad mood because my shoes got wet—I was forced to walk on the wet, stony ground, and the water reached up to my ankle at the very least.

I went to Mr. Chuck, the stupid Gym leader, and gently pushed back his naked shoulder. No response. He chose to ignore me. He was so into his "training," he didn't seem to notice me.

I can't believe it, I honestly can't believe it. It's summertime, the kids are out of school, the people come here for vacation, and they want their Gym badges. And this guy doesn't give a shit. I bet he spends practically the whole year being paid to do nothing, because for the rest of the year visitors to Cianwood are all inexistent.

So I thought, "Screw you," and went ahead to stop the waterfall that was raining on his head.

I defeated the Gym trainers that were in my path (which was all of them) and once that task was done, I found myself at the top of one of the cliffs, facing the machine that operated the water that cascaded down to the Gym leader. There was one large, red winch on it.

_Well, screw all of you, I'm just gonna turn it_, I thought.

I turned it, with pure might. 'Cause you know, anger issues and all of that shit.

There was a slide, from the machine to the Gym leader. The water that made up the "waterfall" came down on that slide. So when I turned the winch, and the slide came up, the water was gone. The Gym leader paused, dumbfounded, before a furious crease showed up between his eyes. He looked flat out weird down there, sitting shirtless and wet on a soaking floor. Without the waterfall obscuring the awkwardness, his foolishness was fully revealed. Nothing was going on but the roaming of a self-satisfied Lyra and perhaps quite a few bewildered black belts.

I ran back down to him, trying to keep a smirk out of my face and sadly failing at the task.

Gym leader Chuck spoke some incomprehensible nonsense to me, before finally uttering, "Why did you stop the waterfall from pouring on me!"

"Because you weren't doing your job. And I wanted to spite you."

"I have to warn you, I'm a strong trainer! I train every day under this waterfall!"

"Sitting in a waterfall doesn't count as training," I spat back. "Your Pokémon weren't even out. I bet they're at your mother's house."

"So you think sitting in a waterfall all day has nothing to do with Pokémon?"

"Yah."

The silence that came afterwards was overbearing. It was composed of me glaring at Chuck and him glaring at me. Cinder was also glaring, at the water that loomed underneath our feet.

"Well," Chuck finally said, "that's true. Come on. We shall do battle!"

I tossed Kitty's Poké Ball forward.

_Kitty, please don't make me lose in front of this idiot._


	20. Winning Is for Losers, Anyway

I went to the bathroom and when I came back I forgot what I was doing.

Well, here I am now, sitting at the Olivine café, and ready to burst into action! Just let me order more sushi for a few more moments...

* * *

Chuck took out this weird, petite monkey thingy that had chains on its ankles and wrists. It seemed permanently pissed off. Maybe its blood pressure was too high from sitting at the waterfall all day.

Kitty, on the other hand, was an angelic creature of beautiful ivory white wings, a serene aura of truth and justice about it. It was pretty obvious who was going to win, so nobody but Chuck was foolishly surprised when the monkey creature was gone in a flash of pink light.

What did surprise me, however, was that Lorcan was gone in battle by one hit. _One hit_. It was a fucking one-hit KO, and it wasn't even a _critical_ hit. I was so shocked, I didn't even notice Kitty successfully winning the entire battle for me.

Once I realized he did, however, I pretended like I knew all about the win and accepted Chuck's Gym Badge.

"Ha! I'd enjoyed battling you!" he said.

I was like, "Uh-huh, uh-huh," nodding much too eagerly. My mind was still wrapped up about my Pokémon. Not just Lorcan, but nearly the whole team. I mean, pretty much everyone but Cinder and Kitty were becoming crappy at battling, and that isn't a pleasant thought.

"But," Chuck continued, "I don't like losing. From now on, I'm gonna train twenty-four hours a day."

OKAY, that was one way to get my attention. I gave Chuck a serious look.

Dude, unless you want Team Plasma to start protesting here too, you'd better shut up with these animal abuse comments.

* * *

I left the Gym, frazzled and frowning. So I was pretty tired when a woman suddenly came right at me, saying, "You'd gotten Cianwood's Gym Badge!"

"How do you know?" I said. "I thought I put in my bag." I looked down, making sure that the badge wasn't sticking outside of it.

"It's actually sticking on your sleeve. You were too hasty in putting it in, you didn't notice that it never actually landed inside of your bag. Anyway, I watched through the windows."

"Oh."

I swear, this nation's stalking efforts both intimidate and impress me.

"Anyway, you should take this HM," the woman said, passing me HM 02. _This_ I remembered to put in my bag. I also put my badge in, squishing it between several celebrity magazines that had strangely appeared in my bag.

"Teach your Pokémon the move Fly," she said, "and you'll be able to fly instantly to anywhere you have visited."

"Like my grandmother's house?" I said.

"If your Pokémon has been there before, then yes."

Shit, they haven't. I think my grandmother moved to Kalos now. She enjoys living in Parisian replicas.

Well, anyway, I thanked the woman and started on my merry way to a certain idiotic city called Olivine. Lorcan's treat.

However, I had not gotten too far before randomly glancing to my left. I was then all like, "HOLY SHIT, THAT'S SUICUNE," as my eyes gazed upon the blue furred monster.

Suicune, hearing my feral roar, jumped round before finally landing directly in front of me. His head tilted to mine, his red eyes remembering me, recalling me as the girl who stood before him at the Burned Tower, where I had stood aghast in an eerie stillness, the same way I stood just then, torn away in a blast of misery. Our eyes locked again; I was pleading, he was listening. And he seemed to understand.

Miranda, who stood beside me, cowered to my ankles. I looked down to her, and with my link to Suicune momentarily broken, Suicune leaped off, into the depths of the ocean. Suicune was made to stay free forever, to whisk off in the fury of nature, which housed his own childhood. He was not made to remain contained in a small red and white ball.

I looked back at where he leaped, at the waves that were just beginning to still, and I knew that I didn't have the heart to catch him.

At least, that was what I was thinking.

"Yo, _Lyra!_"

Where Suicune goes, Eusine follows...'course. I sullenly turned to him, looking upon his vigorous, crazed features.

"Wasn't that _Suicune_ just now?"

"Yeah, that was _Suicune_ just now. Guy doesn't seem to like me much, though. He practically jumped into a lake after seeing my face."

"Well, I thought I saw him running gracefully on the waves."

"Um..."

"Suicune is beautiful and grand. And it races through towns and roads at simply _awesome_ speeds."

He stared dramatically at the ocean, awkwardly reminding me of my middle school plays. I stirred uncomfortably.

"It's _wonderful_," he said. "I want to see him up close. I want to see the wind rustle the fur on his back, the freedom in his wild...animal...eyes..."

"Okay," I interrupted, beginning to feel my stomach grumble loudly. I made a move to get past him.

But he slid into my way, grinning much too broadly. I looked up irritably.

"Wait, Lyra, I've decided on a plan."

"Good for you." I changed direction but Eusine blocked me again. I stared at him with murder in my eyes.

"It involves you," he added.

"I'm too hungry."

"I've decided to battle you as a Trainer to earn Suicune's respect!"

My first impulse was to laugh, and I did that very well.

Then I said, "I don't want to catch Suicune, and I don't even know you."

He said, "I still want respect."

"Then go beat a Gym Leader."

"But Suicune respects_ you_, so if I beat you, then he'll respect _me_."

I glared at him. "I'm sorry, Euisne, but look...frankly, I'm starting to get angry at you right now. I need my dinner, and you're blocking my way. If we have a fight, I'll make sure you lose at this rate...besides, I kind of doubt that Suicune is watching this right now. And even if he _is_, by some unlikely chance, I doubt he even gives a shit whether you win or not. He's a fucking dog."

"Lyra, please!" he said, tears glinting in Eusine's sky blue eyes. "Let us battle! This has always been my dream."

"Um..."

"I always wanted to battle against a chosen hero. That was...that was what I wrote in kindergarten, many, many years ago..."

"You wrote in kindergarten that you wanted to beat a chosen hero, not become one?" I'm supposed to believe _that_?

"I was an intellectual," he confided.

The pity...was too great. The fact that he actually thought I would believe any of that made me pity him even more, for some reason.

I silently swore, taking out my Cinder.

"We're doing this just to humor him, but we better win," I told Cinder. "If we don't, there shall be..._consequences_."

I said "consequences" in the scariest voice I can, just so Cinder can make his own interpretations of the word.

Cinder yawned and complained he was hungry.

"That makes it two of us."

* * *

You probably want to know the result of that very stupid battle.

Here's Eusine's quote of it: "I hate to admit it, but you won."

Get your clues from that.

"You're amazing, Lyra!" Eusine gushed.

"I'm amazing _when I'm hungry_," I corrected.

"I'm starting to understand why Suicune was keeping an eye on you."

"I know. I'm too animalistic for this society."

"Well, I'm going to keep searching for Suicune. See you around!"

He walked away.

It was then that I wandered off for Olivine City, for food, for a Badge, and for a Pokémon's life. You know, lofty ideals like that. I doubt I'll get into Harvard because of them, but one can hope, right?

* * *

"Lorcan, I _know_ you. I know you snuck celebrity magazines inside my bag."

Lorcan was silent.

"You weirdo."

Olivine's shores showed up on the horizon. Its lighthouse was dark, seemingly stoic, even as darkness began to fall over the land. Lorcan drifted peacefully on the waters as the last of the fishing ships came to pass, coming toward Olivine's shores. There were a few rowboats still roaming about, and in some of them couples sat, romantically lit up by the full moon. Golden lights along the harbor reflected upon the dark, smooth waters. A few winds came past, blissful and tranquil.

It was, overall, the end to a great day. A great day in nature, I mean. My day, personally, was as stupid and strange as they always are, but you probably know all about that.

"Lorcan, take your dumb magazines, and tell somebody else to keep them for you. I can't keep them in my bag. I barely got enough room for my French tea manuals already."

Lorcan scowled at me.

"Look, those manuals are important. Besides, you didn't even _ask_ if you could put magazines inside of my bag. I mean, I probably would've said no, but generally speaking, you have to_ ask_ for those kind of things, understand?"

Lorcan asked if we could head to some place called the Dragon's Den (sounds like a bar), and go find him a girlfriend.

I said no.

He said there would be sushi cake.

I said that I would consider it later.

It was not long afterwards that I reached Olivine, jokingly preparing a "perfect" speech to Jasmine as one trainer to another: you suck. With this in mind, I headed to the café to eat and wash up. It was on my way out did I ask causally about the sick Pokémon, and I became horrified when realizing that nobody else had gotten the pharmacy's medicine yet. This whole time I wasn't taking it seriously, because I thought that another Trainer would be handing the medicine to Jasmine any minute now. Fingering the medicine I got from the pharmacy, I asked about Jasmine. The responses I got from the sailors were, in their minds, tragic (in that the Pokémon was sick) yet hopeful (in that Jasmine would surely cure it!) and truth was, none of them seemed to realize that Jasmine's "gift," as they put it, wasn't doing anything at all.

Or maybe that girl's gift is about_ not_ doing anything at all. Damn, she's more idiotic than I thought if she ever thought that was an actual gift. My mother, who _doesn't_ consider this to be a gift, can beat her at this game, fair and square. (To my knowledge, she's still staring at her planner at the kitchen table.)

But those Olivine people honestly, really thought, that Jasmine had a special gift that can do anything. She did mention to them about a medicine, but it was mostly in passing.

Their replies to my questions were stuff like: "Really, surely, she can do it on her own! She can heal Amphy without help. She told us that!"

And I was like: "YEAH, RIGHT, PEEPS."

Repulsed by this never-ending stupidity, I ran to the lighthouse, wisely using the elevator at the main room to take me to the light room. Still dainty, adored Jasmine sat next to Amphy, the sick Pokémon, and all I wanted to do was scream at her, asking, "What are you _doing_? What have you _accomplished_ these past few days? You haven't given him food or anything, haven't asked anyone to do so, just sat next to him and watch him suffer!"

Instead I pursed my lips, trained my composure, and stiffly came to her and the sick Pokémon. Amphy's breathing was slight, it could barely cough. I swallowed, trying to keep my anger towards Jasmine in check. I kneeled down to Amphy and began to open the medicine, not looking at her at all.

"Will that medicine help Amphy?" she asked softly.

"Yes," I replied in a flat tone, and still, I did not look at her. I kept my hands from shaking and used delicate, precise movements, but the rage that filled me couldn't be conquered.

_You sat here, rejecting all help._

_You watched him suffer, yet gave no instructions. You said that you could handle it, through your so-called "gift," even through you_ knew_ you couldn't do anything. You just pretended like you could, to save face._

I opened the medicine. I gestured Amphy to it. Coming closer, it was evident Amphy was in a total mess. His eyes were bloodshot, and his chest seemed to shatter with every wheeze he made...

I couldn't believe it had come to this point. I'm fine with helping itself, but I'm _not_ fine with the stupidity that led me to help. I talked to the sailors, and I realized that this situation has been going on from the time I was still in Azalea Town. It has gotten_ that_ long, but nobody else bothered, none of these sailors, none of these bird keepers. None of them thought of going to the pharmacy, or even making a short call.

Because Jasmine has all told them she has a _gift_. And they _believed_ her, because they loved her, and the love she had for her own Pokémon. They were led on to believe that _they_ couldn't do anything, because they apparently didn't have this gift. This is what has kept Jasmine inside of the Gym, and what kept them out.

"Um, please, don't be offended..." Jasmine said, coming in closer, "but Amphy will not take anything from anyone but me..."

You know what?

I completely ignored her.

I allowed Amphy to be the final judge. If he wouldn't accept it and she was right, fine. I'll give to her. She can apply the medicine. But just this moment, I wanted to test the credibility of her words.

I held out the medicine. And Amphy's head came to me, and he trusted me enough to take something from me. I slowly dripped the medicine down his throat, his consent being all that was really needed.

That was final. I did not need her at all, or her "gift."

I got up from my knees, feeling my heart shaking.

"Amphy," Jasmine said, her voice only an echo in my head, "Amphy, how are you feeling?"

He cried out loud in happiness, the medicine I have given already having an effect on him. I backed away to the wall, feeling weak, even as Amphy shone his brilliant light, illuminating the lighthouse again. The darkness around me, at the top of the lighthouse, vanished as an almost blinding light took over.

Jasmine smiled. "Oh, I'm relieved, this is so wonderful..."

_To save face. _The words made a chill run down my spine.

"Thank you so very, very much," she said. "I will return to the Gym."

She was probably speaking to me, but she didn't even bother looking at me. Gal apparently learned a lot from me in a few measly moments; I should be a teacher. (Lesson number one is about how to make proper cold shoulders.)

Jasmine got up, and very, very, quickly ran off and went down the ladder, as though she couldn't stand being near me (that is to be addressed during the second lesson). And so she went off, to the Gym she clearly didn't deserve, with the Pokémon she deserved even less. The whole time she had been near me I had been avoiding looking at her, but now those restraints automatically became released; I gazed at her as she began to hurriedly descend the ladder, a pained look spreading across my face.

In short, I had just missed my time to give a perfect, "love ya Pokémon" lecture, and I felt ashamed. Amphy needed someone to avenge him.

Well, guess I'll give the lecture to Pikachu Boy, then.

* * *

All things considered, I was ready to beat the shit out of that stupid Jasmine lady. I was going to do with dignity, and it involved burning her ego with Cinder's well executed attacks of ember.

At last, that was the damn plan. Whether it worked or not is going to be your personal opinion. Now, take your opinion, and go run with it, but I better come out in a good light. If I don't come out in a good light, you must write me a letter, preferably in legible print, why I didn't. Then I can edit it for the future publication of my memoir.

Well, _anyway_, I began to head to Jasmine's Gym, pretty damn upset with her. I was just out of the lighthouse when I got a phone call, and I don't know how the hell I always get phone calls when exiting buildings, but it happened again.

This time from Baoba.

"Hey, Lyra...this is the warden, Baoba. Sorry to have kept you waiting. We've finally opened the Safari Zone."

At first I forgot who Baoba was, and stared at my Pokégear's Caller ID in total confusion.

Then I realized who he was—one of the million older man in rugged brown clothing.

"Right, the Safari Zone," I said. "It's in...Cianwood?"

And I just _came_ from there.

"Yes," Baoba said hastily. "Do you know where it is? There's a gate in a cavern..."

He went into a big description of it, but frankly, I kind of forgot what he said. I decided that I'll just go to Cianwood later, check the place around. Couldn't get lost for long. The whole town was practically the size of Goldenrod's department store.

He ended his longwinded interactions with a desperate, "Please come visit," and hanged up.

This was the moment in which I ran to the Gym, noting snootily the sign outside of the Gym which read:

_Leader: Jasmine_

_The Steel-Clad Defense Girl_

It made stupid Jasmine sound like a dumb old knight or something, clad in a bulky, hideous layer of thick armor. Honestly, I liked the image. I liked the idea of Jasmine walking around, steel clunking noisily with her, as her opponents stared in bafflement. She would probably barely be able to reach out to reward people with Gym Badges, her armor being so stiff and resolute.

Cackling at my own stupid ideas, I entered the Gym. I gave a nod to the Gym guide, who was positioned awkwardly between the wall and one of the Gym's Charizard statues. It looked like a pretty tight squeeze for him. Maybe he was afraid of coming across Jasmine? Well, I couldn't judge him from that. Who knows what kind of mischief that woman does in her own turf.

I bet she slaps people while wearing huge steel armor, doing both things for absolutely no reason.

So I came to him, willing to be a witness against her in case this ever goes to court.

Unfortunately, he didn't tell me anything that interesting.

"Jasmine uses Steel-type Pokémon," the Gym guide told me with little fanfare in his now bleak sounding voice. "She's trying to hide her tenderness behind her steely coldness."

I gave the guide a weird look, but he only gave me a halfhearted glance instead. Frowning, I came deeper into the Gym.

* * *

Jasmine's Gym (May be slightly biased against)

Safety: 10/10

No risk here...surprisingly.

I swear, I shall find other faults in her Gym.

Design: 7/10

It reminds me of cupcakes. Which is not good, because then I got hungry.

Gym Trainers/Gym leader: 5/10

Good...Gym Trainers. There, I've said it.

Average: 7.3/10

...

* * *

"I knew you'd come here," said one of the Gym Trainers, an older man in a strangely familiar brown suit. "Thank for helping the Gym leader, but battle is a separate matter."

"I know," I said, bracing for battle against this man, Cinder coming closer to my side...

"Go for it!"

Then he smiled encouragingly and turned away, dismissing me. Um...'kay?

I went on and was approached by a second Gym trainer, a young girl in a strangely familiar miniskirt. She giggled.

"I know how capable you are from the lighthouse," she said. "It's time you showed that side of yourself to Jasmine. Good luck!"

She stepped backward, not seeming to be intent on battling me either. I gave her and the guy a suspicious look, but neither of them did anything but look forward and do nothing. It made me even more suspicious, especially since the two of them seem to know all about me from the lighthouse. It was probably all that time speaking with Baoba that got Jasmine so ahead of me.

I walked to Jasmine, frowned. She regarded me cooly before saying in a chilly voice:

"Thank you for your help at the lighthouse...but this is different. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Jasmine, a Gym leader. I use the...clang! Steel type!"

Her terrible joke rendered no laughter from me, only a hard look. She swallowed.

"Um, okay...do you know about the Steel-type?"

"Yes," I said coldly.

"They are very hard, cold, sharp, and really strong."

I gave her a sharp look.

"Um...I'm not lying," she said nervously.

"I didn't say you were," I said strongly.

"Um...let's just fight."

"Yeah, we probably should," I said cooly, directing Cinder towards the Magnemite Jasmine tossed out.

Once that Pokémon was out, all my remaining dignity was promptly shredded.

"Burn it!" I screamed to Cinder, indicating him to use ember. "Burn it to the fucking ground!"

"Hey, that's not nice," Jasmine protested. She ordered Magnemite to paralyze Cinder.

Cinder got paralyzed.

"Now make him get crazy," Jasmine commanded.

Cinder hit himself because he turned crazy from Magnemite's supersonic move. I'm pretty sure that move was against the law. (Now that's something I can use against her in court.)

"I have enough of this shit," I complained. "Cinder, snap out of it. Burn the Magnemite, that was fun."

Cinder did snap out of it, but not before he was caught by a wave of lightening from Magnemite. Still, the Magnemite ended up fainting from a flame attack Cinder followed the lightening by. I withdrew Cinder and took out Lorcan. Jasmine released her Steelix from its Poké Ball, giving me a look akin to extreme confusion. I'm probably the first Trainer since last week's Pikachu Boy who hasn't given the impression of worshipping the dirt she walks on.

"Lorcan, use surf," I said.

Lorcan did so, but his damage was minimal. It was the Steelix, with its long, iron tail, that made a critical hit. I stared, then glared.

Honestly, I should have trained them sometime between Chuck and Jasmine. I had known something was up, but in the end? I was having a near loss all over again.

Gritting my teeth, I took out Kitty. Kitty too fell after only a few shots, and I was near panic. After Kitty, I watched, bewildered, as one by one my Pokémon fell. The evil Steelix bared its teeth, its loosely connected body of stones glinting horridly in the bright lights.

Eventually, I lost.

I tossed random money Jasmine's way, my head beginning to feel strange. Spots showed up in my now grainy vision as I began to walk away from Jasmine.

"You need to train your Pokémon more—" Jasmine was saying, but I didn't care for what she had to say—I was already falling. My spotted vision danced before my eyes.

I wanted to win against her so badly, but in the end, it didn't matter.

I blacked out.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Do you think that Lyra's perception of Jasmine was too harsh? Comment!


	21. The Legendary Spit of Marill

**Author's Note**

I enjoy reading your reviews, and I want to thank all of you guys for reading.

A reminder: I've really taken my liberties in aging up the kiddos. Lyra's sixteen, Silver is around that age, and Ethan is about a few years older than both of them. I just can't find it plausible that many ten-year-olds randomly walking around would manage to beat a gang while keeping their shit together.

* * *

When I woke up on the wet floor of the Pokémon Center, my first thought was that I needed more coffee.

"Dammit kid, I just swept this morning," a mop complained to me as I wearily blinked open my eyes. As my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I managed to see that the mop didn't speak, it was the random guy holding it that did. I apologized to that random guy, but he didn't seem to be convinced.

I looked at the nurse behind the counter. Then I looked at the name tag on her dress.

_HI, MY NAME IS: Nurse Joy._

I stupidly wondered if Nurse was her first name or just the title.

* * *

I left the Pokémon Center, realizing that the morning had already risen. The ships were setting off for the sea, and the dreaded Pokémon Gym, saturated in the morning light, had no lights inside its drab interior. It was closed.

Frowning, I headed north to train my Pokémon out in the fields. I walked pretty far up, next to Morty's city, because I didn't want Jasmine to come by and see what a loser I am. My plan was to go to her first and show what a loser _she_ was after I've trained up all my Pokémon.

The plan failed almost right away. In the end, I didn't train my Pokémon. We ended up sitting in the grass with cats, eating cookies. This occurred for only ten minutes, not because I ran out of cookies but because FUCKING ENTEI inconveniently jumped out of the grass and scared us like hell. One minute Lorcan was paralyzing a cat (it volunteered) and we were all clapping with mouths full of cookies, next minute we were running with our cookies spilled all over the grassland while Entei leered at us. I almost choked from all the chewed up food in my mouth. Lorcan managed to paralyze Entei for a moment, but there was no real use into doing so. Entei left us almost immediately—probably to eat all the cookies we dropped.

So. We had a bad night, _and_ a bad morning. I figured that everyone needed a break, so we began to head to the Safari Zone.

* * *

I was almost by Cianwood when the very last Tentacool came my way. I swore, Lorcan gleed in delight that was completely foreign to me. I give Lorcan a surprised look, but he was already coming toward our opponent.

"Lorcan—"

Lorcan blew blue fire on the Tentacool while I was still was on his back. Then I wasn't.

I became utterly submerged in water, my entire body being salted like I was an expensive meal. My hat almost floated away—I seized it, the fabric crushing under my hands as water oozed out of it. Lorcan surfed on the water, not to me, but to the Tentacool to splash water on its face. Another current came by following his own, splashing_ my_ face.

I felt pretty stupid, you know. The sea itself practically _spat_ on my face.

I clung onto Lorcan, who had by now beaten the Tentacool. My fingers were pale and so cold they were almost numb. He looked sorry, but I wasn't having any of this. Getting on his uncomfortable, scaly body, I ordered him to take me to Cianwood immediately before I die of pneumonia.

Look. I trained Lorcan, I fed him, I named him, I taught him how to tie my shoes. And you know what the grateful bastard did in return?

He threw me off his back again and began to evolve.

DAMMIT LORCAN, WE'RE NOT FINISHED YET.

* * *

Being a Dragonair suited him much better. As a Dragonair he seemed more adult like, more graceful as his body lengthened and his head became better defined from the rest of his body. I was still kind of pissed, though, so I just got on his back and ordered him to take me to Cianwood again, no questions.

Then Ethan called.

I have no idea why my Pokégear still worked perfectly and not my own fingers, but that's life...I guess.

"Hello? This is Ethan...how are you?"

"I may die today, but I don't know. It depends how the rest of the day turns out," I answered as Lorcan happily surfed me back to Cianwood.

"Oh," Ethan said, evidently believing I was being sarcastic. "Azalea's Gym is really awesome, don't you think?"

"Isn't that the one run by an eight year old?"

"It's the one with the Spinarak rides..."

"God, I hate that Gym. It is literally one of the worst Gyms I have ever been to. The design is a piece of crap, the rides are a clunky mess, the Gym Trainers are all a bunch of kids who—"

"—I wonder what would happen if you took a real Spinarak to that Gym? I think it'd be interesting!"

"I think it's something I'll rather not try. I bet the Spinarak would crawl off to the Gym's deep pit and never come out again. You'll waste your money on its Poké Ball."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Cianwood began to loom on the surface. "Hey, Lyra, can you do something for me?"

"Depends. How much do I get paid?"

"Ten bucks an hour. I need you to babysit Marill."

I froze.

"Can you do this for me?" he asked. "Please?"

I slowly considered it, like a good business person should. I decided that there was one question that ought to be asked, and I should ask it. My final answer would lay entirely with Ethan's answer to this question:

"Can I keep it in its Poké Ball?"

"Sure, sure," he said hurriedly, "whatever you want. Just remember to feed it—you'll be keeping it for a few hours. I need you to stop by Olivine later today, okay? Around five o'clock. You'll keep Marill until nine this same day."

"Uhh..."

"I'm sorry for the late notice." His voice cracked. "But a relative is visiting, and they're allergic to Marill. I have to go to a few places with them on top of everything else. I can't leave Marill alone."

To be honest with you, the relative was probably afraid of rapid blue monsters that cut open people's backs while playing. And also to be honest with you, I can't blame them.

"All right," I said, and hung up before I could say something else.

For example, I was very tempted to say: "What bullshit is this?"

But I didn't, because I try to be a nice person. Sometimes.

* * *

_Entrance to the road for the Safari Zone._

_Experience thrilling encounters with wild Pokémon for heart-to-heart contact! _

_The Safari Zone is just around the corner from this entrance!_

No wonder Baoba ran out of business. That was the vaguest description of a paid service I have ever read.

I got inside, anyway, into the cavern in which the Safari Zone was held. The inside was like a caveman's version of an amusement park. The ground and the walls were distinctly of a cave's. There was even a small cave lake that are common in places such as these.

Despite this unflattering interior, Lorcan seemed excited all the same, his new long tail twisting here and fro.

"We're not looking for a girlfriend for you here," I reminded him. He considerably darkened.

To the left, I saw a cardboard sign that had what should've been outside:

_Everything Is Thrilling!_

_Explore to Find Wild Pokémon!_

"Did you know?" the clerk at the counter said. "There's a Safari Zone just around the corner."

"I understand that—"

"It's really fun! You will see many different kinds of Pokémon, and it's all you can catch!"

"The cost—?"

"There is no reason not to go, right? Just around the corner."

"I understand_ that_, but what's the cost—"

It won't take too long. Why don't you drop by? Won't you?"

_"What is the cost—?"_

"It's such a good deal, you know."

"No, I _don't_ know. You're not telling me what the deal is."

In an effort to feign defiance, I turned my back to her and ran up the stairs that were lazily carved onto the stone. I was going to have a discussion about Baoba on this atrocious marketing strategy. Getting prospecting customers annoyed with stupid catch phases like "just around the corner" is going to get us nowhere.

Annoying them with these roundabout stairs isn't such a great idea, either.

I left the cave only to enter a side of a cliff, a road carved out on it. Under the cliffs a light layer of golden sand remained. The cliff's orange rock and labyrinth like paths rose above not only that but a glittering blue sea. At the angle of the cliffs, I could not see Cianwood—the small place was way below me, somewhere. Instead there was only the sea and the horizon that preceded it. The water itself was a limitless presence, serving not only as the sea's gently rising surface but as the waterfalls that trickled down the cliffs.

I looked out into the distance, over the ocean, over the horizon, not really looking at anything at all. This was addicting to me, but I still urged myself to move on.

All those detours and everything was really getting into my nerves. Path after path rushed under my feet.

This was NOT just around the corner. This was fucking just around the country.

Lorcan did like the exercise, though. I mean, I think he did. He practically went into battle waltzing.

Finally I came across the Safari Zone gate. It was set up like a mini-festival or something. Some people sold things at booths, and others were so desperate they actually camped out there to be the first to enter the Safari Zone. There was a full out Pokémon Center built there, for goodness' sakes.

I went on until I got into the Safari Zone's office. It was a nice, comfortable place, with wooden flooring and a yellow table with yellow chairs to match. Baoba had been sitting on one with them until he spotted me enter.

"Hi, I've been waiting for you!" Baoba said breathlessly. "What do you think?"

I then told him everything I thought about it, and more.

"...Also, there wasn't any fences around the roads. What if somebody forgot to tie their shoe and they slipped there?" I paused. "Death, obviously. And there isn't any good sign around here. People could get lost at the fork in the roads." Another pause. "Okay, that's it."

"It's a new Safari Zone," he said somewhat apologetically. "By the way...I just had an idea."

"Yeah?" I took a glance at the clock. This new idea better not take long—I had to get to Ethan in about an hour.

"Would you like to take the Owner Aptitude Test?"

Okay, that would probably take a long time.

"Sure," I said. "Just not this minute." I decided not to address the fact that I was only sixteen years old, and my moral character was more than partially questionable.

"First, let me explain how the test works. It's very easy."

"All right."

"All you have to do is catch one Geodude at the Safari and show it to me."

"One...Geodude?"

"They're in the grass closet to the entrance. It shouldn't take too long."

That really _wouldn't_ take so long. So I decided to try it, just then and there. Ethan was a few years older than me, anyway. I felt like he could muster up a few minutes of patience.

The Safari Zone, I found out, worked like this—you take Safari Balls, then throw them at Pokémon. Pretty simple. If you really can't catch it, then throw sand at it and then try to catch it. It's weird, but yeah. Your Pokémon don't even have to get involved or anything, since this is actually a game of crafty, underhanded tactics.

I explored the place for a while, having caught a Geodude easily at my first try. Apparently there are several different environments. Each one was the home of different Pokémon. It was a relatively simple concept, considering that I've once literally taken rocket science before.

After I showed the Geodude to Baoba, he declared that there were two more tests for me to take. At that point I was ready to leave. And that's pretty much what I did.

* * *

From a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, I would rate my maturity as 0.4.

I found Ethan at the corner of the Pokémon Center, standing somewhat stiffly. He was staring at the wall with his hands curved around a Poké Ball—Marill's probably. Miranda followed me as I walked up to him.

"Hey," I said.

Ethan blinked and smiled slightly as he regarded me. "Hi, Lyra. Thanks for coming." He awkwardly straightened his hat, blushing. "Marill's in my hand right now...thanks for doing this for me, by the way. _Really_, thanks. I don't know what I'll do without you." Everything he said sounded extremely clumsy and fake.

The he held out the Poké Ball to me, holding back his head considerably and wincing like I was going to slap him silly.

Now, I don't know about you, but for me, frankly, that was pretty awkward. I gingerly took peeled the Poké Ball out of his sweating hands and carefully placed it in a case. All this was accomplished while I was painstakingly staring at it to make sure that Marill wouldn't suddenly burst out of it and _physically assault_ me under the pretense of a hug, or something. Or worse, do that to Miranda.

Miranda would probably eat Marill if that happens.

"It's no problem," I said with equal awkwardness. "I'll take...the best care of Marill that I could."

We stood in silence for a few unnecessary seconds. Time ticked by. It occurred to me that I haven't seen Ethan in such a long time—he was almost not very scrawny. Almost. He was still skinner than me, no matter how much bodybuilding he did.

I began to itch my wrinkled hat, and discovered that there was the remains of a chocolate bar on my forehead. Ethan scratched the beginnings of his mustache. However, it quickly became aware to him that it ought to be shaved. I'll make a guess and say that the Pokémon journey made many interruptions into his regular hygiene schedule. After all, it did the same to me.

"Marill will probably get hungry in an hour or so," Ethan added, trying to cover up his thin mustache in the most natural way possible.

"Can he drink tea and eat sushi?"

"Anything with no alcohol."

"I can work with that."

I began trying to eat the chocolate on my forehead in the most subtle way I could. Ethan started searching for a razor in his bag, but the problem is, he wasn't very stealthy about it. I try not to notice that he was going through random threads of dental wax, undergarments, and combs.

"Marill likes long walks," Ethan mentioned, trying to cover up his bag with one flap.

"Can he go unsupervised?" I asked hopefully.

"No," Ethan said flatly. "He might get lost."

"That's unfortunate—I mean, yeah, you're right. I won't let him get lost."

I decided that it was a bad idea to eat chocolate from my forehead, and besides, it was bloody difficult to try without getting caught anyway. Ethan realized that the flap he used to hide his stuff from me was actually falling apart every time he wasn't looking, so basically, I knew everything that was going on in that jungle of his. I tried to preserve his privacy, but it was difficult to do that when I had to look into his face since he had placed his head right next to that damn bag. As for Ethan, he tried to hide what was going on with his fists, but when he did that the whole bag spilt apart and everything got dumped into the floor. His deodorant, dirty laundry, and crude attempts at drawing a certain young Pokémon Trainer (himself) were displayed onto the floor for everyone to see. And so was everything else he had in that bag.

The whole thing was quite embarrassing.

I tried to help out, but the first thing I picked up was a dirty cloth that soon seemed to resemble a boy's boxers. (It was actually a tank top, but that was something I found out only later.)

Well, we've confirmed by now that I'm not the most mature of teenagers.

I screamed, and I ran to go to the bathroom before remembering there was no bathroom at the Pokémon Center. So after that I blindly ran outside, thrusted my clean hand inside of my bag, and I impulsively threw Marill's Poké Ball.

"Marill, I choose you! Use bubble beam. _Wash my hands!"_

Marill made a high pitched shriek out of the tremendous amount of pressure leveled at him now. Miranda was looking at him expectantly, I was looking at him expectantly, and Ethan would have been looking at him too had it not been for the fragile threads of the messenger bag commanding him to go clean up his mess inside. Marill shrunk down and began shaking, like it was going to explode. Its bright blue fur puffed out from its body.

"Marill," I cooed, trying desperately to console it, "Marill—"

Marill exploded.

* * *

A torrent of spit came from Marill's mouth and splatted me against the Pokémon Center. My nose hit the glass first and bled all over my shirt. An anxious Miranda bit into my shirt and caused great tears into it, and my bag was watered like the rest of me with Marill's saliva. I hit against the Pokémon Center multiple times as I spun in the mass flood of saliva that began to surround it. The glass of the Pokémon Center cracked and everyone inside screamed their heads off, running to the basement. Nurse Joy was the most vicious—she knocked down three people who came her way and they were all kids. Then once she was down the stairs, she screamed, "EVERYONE FOR THEMSELVES!" and slammed the door behind her. Someone tested the doorknob; it was locked.

Once this occurred, everyone else who hadn't been able to themselves down there frantically looked around, searching for _the bathroom that didn't even exist_. I couldn't see Ethan himself, but I spotted several Pokémon related products floating by that seemed suspiciously like his (for instance, a mug that said, "I LOVE MY MARILL!").

The Marill itself was trying to come inside the Center, to apologize or something, but people screamed when it came close. Honestly, I was impressed with it. I had no idea that such a tiny thing had so much water inside of it. I might have even considered allowing an acceptably shy Marill to join my team.

However, that idea lasted for a very short period. For immediately afterwards everyone booed me for being the "owner" of Marill.

And that was just not right. People, this is not my fault. It's the Pokémon Center people's fault. They never add a bathroom, and this is proof that they need to.

* * *

**And now, for the sake of mocking Divergent:**

_A BATHROOM _

_becomes a luxury_

_A LUXURY_

_becomes an awesome thing_

_AN AWESOME THING_

_becomes life changing_

_BEING LIFE CHANGING_

_can save the world_

_ONE BATHROOM CAN CHANGE THE WORLD_

_JOIN LYRA'S PETITION TODAY!_

**Lyra wrote it herself, of course. For whatever reason, she is pleased with it.**


	22. Clothing Revolution

My fingers were curved around Marill's Poké Ball. No starlight shone in the night sky above to distract from the unnerving blackness—the only thing that lit me were the sparse light posts, with nothing that casted light upon the black waters that sloshed continuously below me.

I sat at the dock at the brink of Olivine, not dressed in my weird overalls for once. Instead I had on a navy blue jacket, a black tank top, and dark jeans. Black boots were on my feet. I am aware that my outfit almost has "PIKACHU BOY!" scribbled all over it (almost, because there was no strawberry yogurt stains), but at the same time I don't give a damn. It was the first thing I found at the closest clothing shop, and the place was running out of business too.

I absentmindedly squeezed a fingernail in between the white and red of Marill's Poké Ball. The surface was hard, cold. The circle that connected the white and the red parts of the ball together was cracked. I felt that now as my other fingers smoothed over it, the chipped plastic cutting into my skin.

I paused, my hand suspended. A small microchip under the circle came in contact with my index finger. Carefully, I pinched out the chip, my fingers touching its wet, filthy sides. I rubbed it clean with the ends of my jacket, then looked at it, bringing it up to the blaze of the light post. The text of the weathered sticker on it was still unreadable.

I stared at it for a few moments, my hand lowering from the light. I hesitated, the microchip clutched in one hand, my feet dangling over the dark water underneath. Miranda slept behind me, her head tucked in to her stomach. A gentle breeze caressed our faces, playing with my hair's brown strands. The sounds of people was absent.

Impulsively I turned for my Pokédex. I flipped it over on its back, pushing at the microchip that was contained in one of its slots. The microchip sprang up, sliding into my palm. In that microchip's place, I inserted Marill's chip. Then, flipping back to the Pokédex's front, I pushed the power button.

I waited, the other microchip clutched in my other hand. An artificial white glow started to reflect on my hand. On the screen itself, letters began to appear.

_Dex No.: __132_

_Name: Marill_

_Type: Water_

This is what I was looking for.

I expected to see Ethan's name as the OT—the original Trainer. But the name there wasn't his. It was Kris's.

_Kris's._

My breath felt heavy as I lowered the Pokédex, gazing out to the swirling black waters below. The pulling and pushing of the ocean roared in my ears.

_Okay, _I thought. _Okay._

I turned off the Pokédex and took out the microchip, reinserting it into the Poké Ball.

_Okay._

I barely looked at the Pokédex as I flicked it, dejectedly, into the depths of the jungle that I refer to as my bag.

Marill, his Ethan's favorite, most treasured Pokémon, slept in his Poké Ball. In a dash of madness, I wondered if he, too, wished I was more like Kris. She was the one that everyone loved, Ethan perhaps more than most. I was his...and hers, I thought grimly, of my mother...I was their disappointment.

"It doesn't matter," I said out loud.

It happened to begin raining.

"Miranda, it's not that bad," I said as Miranda lifted her head like it was the heaviest thing since the Titanic.

I faked a sigh of exasperation before looking back at Marill's Poké Ball, watching the droplets that gathered on the smooth plastic surface. Besides the small tints of red and white, the only thing that the droplets reflected was that pure black sky.

Upon carefully placing Marill's Poké Ball into a pocket in my even wetter bag, I rose from the dock. Miranda was nudged gently with my foot.

"C'mon, Miranda," I said as she sleepily looked up at me. "I need to give Ethan his Marill back." I walked past her, the wood creaking under my feet. "It's a few minutes past nine already."

* * *

After switching back the microchips I went back to that dratted Pokémon Center, only I snuck out at the shadows like the fugitive I am. Thankfully, Ethan also had such fugitive thoughts, and he lurked not much further from where I was.

He must have been deep in thought, though, because when I tapped his shoulder he screamed bloody murder and tried to beat me with his hastily sewn bag. However, the bag was in a mess of destruction in not two seconds later, so he was forced pretty early on to realize that it was me.

"I—Lyra!" he gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

I shrugged. "It's okay. I'm fine, although your bag isn't." I gave a pointed look at the aforementioned bag. It looked like a stuffed animal had died in that spot.

Ethan winced as he kneeled down to his tattered bag. "Sorry, sorry..." He shot me a quick look. "You look like a completely different person without pigtails."

"Yeah, whatever." I got down next to Ethan, trying to sort out the bag's guts out, one fluffy fluff at a time.

"Um..." For a few minutes, Ethan ignored me as we gathered up the remains of his own bag. Suddenly, however, he paused and squinted at me. "_Wait_...uh, no offense, Lyra, but when did you start wearing normal clothing?"

"Since I realized that I had enough money to buy some. Believe or not, I actually have a fairly normal teenaged fashion sense."

Ethan stared at me in deep suspicion. Okay, so he _does not_ believe it.

I smirked evilly, wondering how the rest of the world would react to my new choice of clothing...revolt, probably. One Pikachu Trainer at a time.

"Anyway," Ethan said awkwardly, stuffing a bunch of random things into his bag, "you have Marill, right?"

My amazing Lyra smirk disappeared from my face.

"Yes."

I rustled through my bag before grasping the Poké Ball. Hesitating for a spilt second, I tossed it to Ethan. Ethan smiled as he caught it with one hand, ejecting the ball almost immediately. Marill appeared next to him, beaming as always.

I tried to act like Marill wasn't even there, but this plan promptly backfired when Marill came and tried to hug me. (I had no idea it was coming because I was so intent in ignoring it.)

I admit that I came out of the struggle unharmed, but just barely, my friends, just barely. I was on the ground spitting out dirt when the evil creature took mercy on me. When I got back upright, shaking with disgust, I only narrowly kept myself from shouting at it.

Then it tried to hug Miranda.

I admit that both Ethan and I looked very badly as Pokémon Trainers from that one. I looked like a crazed maniac who consistently forgets to feed their Pokémon, which is_ not_ true, and Ethan looked like the Trainer of a friendly future murderer. It took both of us terrible Pokémon Trainers to wrestle our Pokémon away from each other.

When that necessary form of torture was at last over, Ethan stumbled back onto his feet and began a hasty farewell. I was about to reply, but suddenly I hesitated.

Ethan's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

Ethan nodded, trudging his terribly wounded messenger bag along. "See ya, Lyra."

"You really should train your Marill better," I said. Even if Marill will never be on the brink of being kicked out of Ethan's family, Marill still acts pretty downright shameful at times in a degree that's too extreme.

I think Ethan looked sort of pissed with that comment (pissed for Ethan, I mean), but he decided not to say anything. Nice guy. He could've gotten angry at me and snapped, but he didn't.

All things considered, there really are thousands of other reasons for which he would act less than entirely kind towards me. However, I am too bored and hungry to state them right now.

I decided, as I walked on the street, that I was going to eat an apple pie. I would attempt to share it with my Pokémon, but if they didn't want it, I wouldn't be the least offended.

Because of those distracting thoughts, I had already went around the corner when I suddenly realized that Ethan has been wearing a yellow tracksuit the entire time. It might've had matched with his hat, sure. But it definitely didn't look good on him.


	23. Pure Evil or Full of Hormones?

In advance, please do not mind the splatters of blood that you may see on these pages. The Maril spit flood took a lot out of me.

Thank you.

* * *

I made a new week resolution, and that was to be a good sport. However, I don't think I'd accomplished that goal very well this week. I'll try it again next week.

I left the Olivine City Gym after a shouting aftermath that you probably shouldn't know the details about. Basically, what happened in there was that I showed how awesome I was and shit, and everyone agreed with me when I lectured Jasmine. Jasmine got offended, of course, so I was "politely" kicked out, and was "kindly" told from her that I had to shut up and leave or else she'll torture me in a very legal way—with stupidity. This last fact was not mentioned outright, but I could tell that it was there. Therefore, I left the Gym right away, because I was aghast that it was possible for her to treat me with an even greater lack of intelligence. I get the feeling that the Gym Trainers and Gym guide were at least somewhat sympathetic, though. They heard me speak to her, and they agreed that Jasmine hasn't been acting responsibly.

Or they could have just been saying that to get me out of the place.

It could be that, too.

They suggested that I go to some Lake of Rage. It sounded like a terrible idea. Judging from the name, either the place is full of lava, or it's a place where mad people go for vacation. Still, I briefly considered that it might be a good place of philosophical investigation if either was the case. So in the end, I started to travel there with Lorcan by my side.

Although I hadn't known before due to my massive amounts of ignorance, it turns out the path to the Lake of Rage was directly east of Ecruteak City. This same path went through Mahogany Town (strange color name, I know), where another Gym Leader was. Intrigued, I went ahead and checked what my map had to say about this town.

_Mahogany Town_

_A town with a suspicious air to it._

_It's a hiding place for ninjas._

It's not a good hiding place if even the cartographer knew what was going on there when they made the map—do the ninja even really exist these days, anyway?

Also, I'm not sure what makes air "suspicious." If it's something like smoke, well, somebody had _better_ check it out before they all get lung cancer or something. This is ridiculous. Whoever annotated these towns were super biased. Their high school was probably rivals with Mahogany's, or something.

I looked at the explantation for the Lake of Rage, and here it is:

_Lake of Rage_

_A huge lake full of clear, blue water._

That was disappointing.

Well, at least I knew that I should keep my expectations really, _really_ low.

I launched myself onto Route 42, almost immediately came across a Poké Ball on the grass. I not-so-sneakily looked around, then quickly took the Poké Ball. It had this TM in it. Lame. I shoved in my bag.

Then I came across a cave. I did snoop all over the place trying to find a way out of this, but there was no use—I had to get myself into that cave. And it hasn't been three seconds before a man in hiking clothing ran out of the cave, toppling me to the ground. Lorcan suavely evaded the man, then glared at me for not being so blessed. I ignored Lorcan and made eye contact with the hiker.

"Oh, boy!" he cried loudly at my puzzled face. "Sorry that I bumped into you. Did I hurt you?"

I got up, dusted off my clothes. "No." This was said as flatly as I could, but hiking man here apparently did not hear me.

"Please don't cry," he said desperately.

"I'm not about to—"

"Here, take this," the man said, and shoved a HM into my hands. I stared at it.

"It's a move called strength," he explained.

"I thought strength was more of an attribute than an action."

"But when a Pokémon learns it, it can move boulders out of your way."

"I hope you're being ironic. I think my Pokémon are strong enough, thanks." I felt slightly offended that because I'm a teenaged girl, he thought my Pokémon are weak. Because Lorcan was the Pokémon in question, he twisted himself up so he would look taller.

The hiker eyed Lorcan cautiously. Lorcan was starting to make myself uncomfortable as well because he ended up extending above _me._

"Lorcan, get down," I ordered. "You're making me feel short." And he was starting to weird me out, too.

Lorcan obeyed me because there was no dashing female dragons to impress. The hiker looked away from Lorcan politely and continued on.

"Your Pokémon may be strong, but if you put the disc of that HM in a music box, a wonderful warmup song would come up. Some Pokémon end up getting bursts of strength from the music, in fact. The disc is _magical_. It always knows the right song to play."

"I can't even begin to understand this."

"Just take it. Have a great mountain climbing life!" He winked at me and walked away.

Um...okay.

I entered the cave, which turned out to be Mt. Mortar. When I first got in, I hallucinated that a Marill was standing in the corner. So I stood at the entrance for ages before finally acknowledging that I was crazy and moved on. Throughout the cave, I admit, I did see some boulders here and there. There were pretty tiny and easy to step over, but I didn't do that because I was lazy. So I told Hamako to push them.

Hamako gave me _the look_.

I sighed and inserted the Strength disc into a music player that was randomly sitting around for convenient "Strength" use. "Holding Out for a Hero" began to blare from the music player.

I didn't think it would work, but it did. Hamako did all the work I requested of her without complaint.

* * *

I entered Mahogany Town, "home of the ninja." Personally, the place was kind of dumpy and boring to me. Like Azalea Town.

Not wanting to be in that place any longer, I went to the Gym. There was a guy blocking the door. He was eating a donut.

"Hey, can you move aside?" I asked.

The guy suddenly looked up, his brown eyes wide.

"Have you seen this guy with a black cape?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Dracula. In movies."

"No, I mean, _here,_" he said. "He's been going back and forth between here and the Lake of Rage, saying strange radio waves are being transmitted."

"I see."

"Who is he, I wonder."

"Why don't you go and ask him?"

He thought at that for a few moments. Chewed some more donut.

"Nah."

"Okay. May you please move aside?"

He chewed more donut. Thought a little more.

"No."

"Well, that's with you, then," I said briskly. "See ya!" I made a mental note that if I ever do, by chance, find out who the hell Mr. Radioactive Dracula is, I wouldn't tell the donut eater.

I was just storming off when an old man caught sight of me. He went to me, and I thought he was going to say something weird. Instead he simply said, "Are you off to see the Gyarados rampage at the lake?"

I brightened. "There's a Gyarados rampage?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I _am_ off to see the Gyarados rampage at the lake."

However, I became preoccupied by examining this strange sign for the souvenir shop:

_Just a Souvenir Shop._

_Nothing Suspicious about It_

_No Need to Be Alarmed_

Suspicious words aside, I was already suspicious when I noticed the suspicious grammar. I mean, it was like the place _wanted_ to look suspicious.

The sign was most likely a clever way to draw in for tourists, but I get inside anyway. It was a small shop with chocolate smells. The walls had loud, dark blue wallpaper. I cautiously got in, my eyes trying to quickly spot chocolate. I swore I could hear a wind blowing into the room—they really needed to bring the AC down.

The clerk was in a karate uniform. He smiled at me.

"The experiment worked like a charm. Magi-crap are just worthless, but Gyarados are big moneymakers."

I made no comment.

The other person present in the room was a man who was dressed like the Gym guide. He stood against the wall.

For whatever reason, I thought that he seemed slightly more sane than the karate guy, so I informed him that the AC was driving me nuts, and that I could hear the wind blowing in the room.

"That is..._just me whistling,_" the terrible liar said. "There is no..._wind blowing_."

He started whistling hard, with shifty eyes. I stared.

"Enough of that," he snapped. "Why don't you buy something?"

I looked over the things that were on the counter. Strangely, there were only three things for sale: a tiny mushroom that had no purpose whatsoever (it was not even edible), a Poké Ball, and a Potion. No chocolate bar. These people are crazy. They can't believe they'll keep in business if they sell so little. Plus, there was a Poké Mart in town. If anybody needed a Potion or a Poké Ball, they would buy something there.

I shook my head at the clerk and began to leave when I noticed a radio standing in the corner. Shooting a look at the Gym guide clerk, I went to it and heard blowing sounds in it.

They were listening to a radio full of fucking wind noises, and were too humiliated to tell me that.

"This is insanity," I said, "and I think you know it."

The Gym guide clerk flushed. "Look, if you're not going to buy anything..."

"Actually, sir, I'm not. Sorry, but I'm going to leave. Good bye, and I hope you restock soon. I highly recommend that."

I pretty much left like that. It was just then that I got yet another phone call.

In the span of one hour, I had gotten four or five phone calls, all from guys who were obviously very desperate this summer. Then it was Joey's turn, and apparently he had forgotten our five or so last phone conversations, and told me the exact same things about his Rattata. It was annoying. I was about to tell him that, but he hanged up before I could.

I began my way north where the Lake of Rage was, therefore setting foot on Route 42. It was a fairly sunny place, the trees only fringes on the otherwise plain route. Nothing weird about it. A picnicker even stood over there, perhaps waiting to meet up some friends or whatever for an expedition down to the Lake of Rage. Nice place for whistling, you know?

The weird thing was, there was a gate not a very long distance away. It was like, I got out of a gate, walked a few yards, then had to walk into a gate again. I figured that it was a waste of time and money to build it, but I didn't think much of it.

Until I walked in the gate and got confronted by two of those Team Rocket idiots.

They didn't put in one grunt; they putted in_ two_. I figured just from that they had to be pulling some kind of major shit.

"Hold it there, kiddo!" one of them said, walking to me. "The toll is 1,000 to go through."

I was about to say something sarcastic back when one of them _suddenly seized my credit card from my bag and used it without my consent. _I began sputtering at them for this theft when that one shoved the credit card back, smiling snidely at me.

"Thanks!" the other one said in a charming manner, backing away. I stared at him silently for a few, hard moments, before slowly calling the police.

"9ll, what's your emergency?"

"Um...these two gangsters or something used my credit card," I said, glancing at the said gangsters. They couldn't care less.

There was a pause on the other end.

"Wait, how old are you? Are you even old enough to have a credit card?"

"That's not important. Some people just took my credit card, and used it. On top of everything else, they are charging passage to get through a gate."

I waited.

Then, "Where are your parents?"

"Not here. I'm Lyra, sixteen years old, and I'm traveling on my own."

"Can you ask your parents to help you out?"

"Listen, _you_ have to stop these crimes. The gangsters—which are of Team Rocket, by the way—are probably doing the same thing for everyone else unfortunate enough to come this way."

"That's not our problem."

"Then what _is_ your problem?"

"Murders, rape, illegal Pokémon trades, and the illegal roaming of young minors at night. We only occasionally look into theft and kidnapping, preferably in the springtime when the weather is nice. And preferably if the victim or offender is someone who is actually important."

"Well, what about cases in the summertime?"

"For victims or offenders that are normal Joe Does?"

"Yeah."

"Meh. It's too hot."

I hanged up, looking over to the Team Rocket guys.

"I just called 911," I told them. "Do you care?"

They shrugged.

Scowling (and silently cursing the police), I walked out before realizing I've dropped my Trainer Card on the gate's floor. I went inside and got charged a thousand again. Scowling an even deeper scowl, I walked out. The weather truly was hot, and one could hear the sun sizzling the grass. My hair, being left down, was stuck to the back of my neck. And I couldn't find a ponytail holder to get it up—all the ones I'd had apparently floated away during the massive Marill flooding incident.

I remembered why I usually travel at night.

"Hey!" a random guy shouted at me, someone who no doubt wouldn't be out at night. "Some red-haired kid made fun of my precious Pokémon!"

"Really now," I said. "I know that guy, probably. Tell you what, don't listen to him. Pikachu Boy there lives for unnecessary, childish insults, and don't let him get you down. He's wanted by the police. Anyway, I bet your Pokémon are just awesome."

"Humph!" the man said. "My Pokémon's great."

"Wait, are you even listening—"

The person tossed out his Poké Ball, releasing the Nidoking that was contained in it. Nidoking flexed his muscles, his jaws bared.

"No, you weren't listening," I said. "Lorcan, surf the thing up or...something."

Lorcan yawned, bringing up fierce waves of water around him. The clash of water against the Nidoking caused the great beast to succumb to the weight, and its body became limp.

Lorcan, mildly satisfied, returned to my side.

"My Nidoking was _outstanding!_" said the guy.

"I'm sure he was," I said dryly. Lorcan coughed...intentionally.

* * *

The Lake of Rage was relatively huge—because let's face it, this is Johto we're talking about. The sign that labeled it mentioned that Gyarados Lake was another way of calling the place, and nothing else was said on it. I spoke to the old man who overlooked the lake, his face contorted in an intense expression.

"The Gyarados are angry," he mused. "It's a bad omen."

"Of what?"

He didn't answer.

I looked out to the lake and found a weird, red serpent fish thingy roaming around in the waters. It had started to rain, and the rain created an only hazy image of the strange creature. I pointed the serpent out to the old man, but unfortunately, he was too nearsighted to make anything of it.

"All right," I said. "I'm going to take care of this problem."

I instructed Lorcan to allow me to surf on the lake, and he did so. Coming closer, I was able to examine the monster in greater clarity—it was a red Gyarados. That's all. It didn't seem especially angry to me, or anything like that. All it did was simply wander about a small area of the lake, doing little besides that.

Still, I supposed that it was the mere sight of such a creature twisting out of the waters was causing alarm, so I had to confront it. That is, catch it.

"Hey!" I shouted out to the Gyarados. It looked at me in rage for disturbing its mainly peaceful existence of wandering and doing nothing. It was like...when a teenager gets angry at their younger sibling for disturbing them or something.

So the Gyarados is either evil or chock-full of hormones. _We don't know._

Miranda was ejected from her Poké Ball, landing on a magical shallow circle part that kept her up on the surface. She looked up at the Gyarados. And scratched her nose.

I wrinkled my own nose. "Whip your tail, Miranda. Make it look cute." My plan was for the Gyarados to lower its defenses at the sight of utter adorableness.

Miranda nodded right before the Gyarados created a small twister around itself, spinning it into Miranda. Miranda yelped, falling lower in her weird water pad.

Still, she got her paws firmly on that wet, unstable water thing she was on and whipped her tail. She seemed to be successful, but not two seconds later the Gyarados gave her a leer that made my poor Eevee pee with fear. She numbly tackled the Gyarados back, barely causing a scratch.

No, a scratch would cause more. I tensed, holding up her Poké Ball.

"Miranda, return."

She got back into her Poké Ball. Studying the Gyarados wearily, I thrusted out Kitty.

The Togetic yawned and didn't do anything.

I watched. Kitty only yawned again.

At this point, Lorcan began to twist his body around, fidgeting under my ass. Bitting my lip, I instructed him to use all of that destructive dragon rage in him and make a cool blast of dragon power. I don't know what the fuck I was saying, but it seemed to work as glowing masses of purple smoke released from his mouth, charging into the Gyarados with explosive power.

Swarms of purple smoke filled the air as Lorcan continued to blast out whatever power had contained him at the moment. When the smoke finally separated, revealing the place at which the Gyarados was, it became clear that the Gyarados was gone.

Instead of catching it, which was what I originally intended to do, the Gyarados had been downed.

Well, that could work too.

A single scarlet scale shone from the surface at which the Gyarados once stood. Carefully leaning over, I grasped at its small structure. It was a simple, red scale, not larger than the palm of my hand. I stared at it in silence for a few minutes before placing it inside a pocket in my bag.

I think I'll stop my account here for now. My hands have a cramp, probably from making too much tea earlier. I'll finish this account tomorrow.


	24. Solving Crime With a Psychopath

Okay, so I'm back. My hands feel okay now, but in the case they suddenly don't, I won't hesitate to drink more of my sacred, French inspired tea.

Anyway. Five minutes later, after a somewhat unsuccessful training routine at the Lake of Rage (Cinder didn't want to train in the water), I got off Lorcan, landing back onto the ground with a shaky thud. It was still raining, and water still splattered onto the crystal blue lake in a dizzying frequency. However, a man with red hair stood before the sign, musing to himself. He did have a black cape draped about him, but he wasn't muttering about radio waves.

Not that I especially cared. Not with that Dragonite there next to him.

A Dragonite! Here I was, looking at one for the first time, and I couldn't even catch it. It belonged to the red-haired guy, and I couldn't help but sour at the thought. Still, I reassured myself, it couldn't long until Lorcan evolved to sheer awesomeness.

"That red Gyarados wasn't acting right," the man muttered. My attention snapped back to him, but I was barely able to see his face—his back was to me. "As I feared, someone must have forced it to evolve..."

I was pretty confused. I mean, I'm not a Pokémon evolution expert. But I don't think evolution works that way with the Magi-crap. They don't evolve with stones. You can't just scream in its face, "EVOLVE, DAMN YOU! _EVOLVE!_" Still, I decided to be polite enough to say nothing to this man, who, if the donut man had it right, was probably a weird, nutty kind of guy, Dragonite or no.

I spared a glance at the Dragonite. It was probably possible for Pokémon to be nutty too.

Feeling a tang of thirst, and wishing to subside this really annoying headache in my head, I reached into my bag for my water bottle. While I took a few sips of my water, Lorcan inched closer to his fellow Dragon friend and began blabbing, all of a sudden, a bunch of personal information about me. (Lorcan was trying to find a mate through the Dragonite, and was giving out contact information.) At that I tore my water bottle away from my lips, hastily smearing away drops of water from my chin.

"That's _enough,_ Lorcan," I said, my face heating. I didn't dare to look at the red-haired man or the Dragonite. "They don't need to know that my name is Lyra, or any of that stuff. Besides, you really don't need a girlfriend right now. I thought we've already established that—"

"You're Lyra?" the red-haired man said, sounding genuinely interested.

Fuck my life.

"I'm Lance, a Trainer like you," he said. "I heard some rumblings, so I came to investigate..."

I nodded, my face still flushing.

"I saw the way you battled earlier. I can tell that you're a Trainer with considerable skill."

"Thank you. I try."

"If you don't mind, could you help me investigate?"

I froze. Eyed Lorcan, eyed the Dragonite. I knew that if it came down to struggle, I would probably lose.

Lorcan whined, pulling on my sleeve slightly with his jaw. A look of pleading came across his delicate, dark eyes.

I was still hesitant, but then I suddenly remembered, from a newspaper I've read a long time ago, Lance is, or was, a part of the Elite Four. If anything happened, Lance would immediately come to the public's eye. It would be scandalous. Lance would never be able to get a top-ranking job again.

So I shrugged. "I'll help your investigation. I don't have much better to do, anyway."

He clapped. "Excellent!"

At this point I winced in pain. Lance's eyes narrowed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah. Just a headache."

Lance nodded, not really caring. He continued on with the whole "investigation" business. "It seems that the Lake of Rage's Magikarp are being forced to evolve."

I sipped more water. "Why would you say that?"

"I am a Pokémon master," Lance said, like that can explain everything.

"And...?"

"And I read a book."

"I..see."

Later, I would find out that the Gyarados out at the lake were at a much weaker stage than when a normal Magi-crap would evolve. No help from Lance in figuring this out.

"Anyway," Lance continued, "a mysterious radio broadcast coming from Mahogany is the cause."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I read this all in a book, while also being a Pokémon master."

"What book did you read this in?" I demanded.

"A philosophical study on evolution."

"I doubt that book helped much."

He seemed insulted at that notion, and therefore ignored me.

"I'll be waiting for you...Lyra," he said gravely, before dramatically flying away on his Dragonite. Probably to avoid the new toll price.

* * *

Because I, too, wished to avoid the toll, I had Kitty fly me back to Mahogany. Honestly, I tried to speak to him about the battle with the Gyarados, but he just would not listen. I finally gave it a break, believing that the young white colored Pokémon was too tired for whatever reason. It must have been the temporary transition of my travel from night to day.

Even so, I had gotten at least three different phone calls, all from guys, and one from a guy who already called me two times that day—Huey. It was ridiculous, but I couldn't figure out how to put my phone on silent. My mom bought the stupid cheap kind of Pokégear for me.

It was so cheap and dumb, in fact, it couldn't even surf the internet. I had to borrow a phone from a random Trainer at the Pokémon Center to look up the "symptoms of forced evolution."

After that, I went to the awful Souvenir Shop with the terrible radio, obviously. When I got inside, I found that Lance was already there, his Dragonite in front of him. And in front of the Dragonite was the man in the karate clothes.

"Dragonite, Hyper Beam," Lance ordered, before I could go ahead and stop him.

Now.

_Now._

Do you know how Hyper Beam is? Hyper Beam is a move that's devastating. It's powerful, and that Dragonite was a powerful Pokémon. If other Pokémon could hardly withstand it, how can a regular guy can?

Dragonite used Hyper Beam, a wave of sheer power surrounding him as the beam charged forward into the karate guy's chest. The man slammed backwards into the wall, falling to the ground. Not even a whimper passed through his lips before he was struck unconscious.

Perhaps struck dead.

_"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"_ I screamed at Lance. I ran to the karate guy, falling to my knees. Tapping his chest, I kept shouting out, "Are you okay, _are you okay?_ _Can you hear me?"_

No response.

I turned back to Lance as I got up, my chest feeling like it was about to burst. "Damn you, damn you, _damn you_—! Sure, he did a bad thing, _but_ _that was not necessary!"_

Lance watched me coldly. "Calm yourself and get back on track."

He only said that. Like, I was supposed to forget that he'd just downright _murdered_ someone in front of me.

Lance continued like nothing in the world was wrong with forcing a Pokémon to murder. "Just as I thought, that strange radio signal is coming from here."

He walked across the room, facing the guy who resembled the Gym guide. The guy winced and immediately backed away in fright. Lance regarded him in the same cool he had shown me seconds before, and turned to the golden box that had been next to the guy.

"The stairs are right here," he mumbled, pushing the box aside. A staircase was revealed underneath.

"Lyra, we should spilt up to check this place. I'll go first."

He descended the staircase, his dark Dragonite sullenly following him. Lorcan gazed at them in horror before returning to the karate guy. I trailed my Pokémon, wishing to check the man's breathing. However, that was not needed.

"Urrgh..." the man uttered, his head slumped against the wall. Somehow, he had regained consciousness—but barely. "That guy's Dragon-type Pokémon are tough..."

I looked over to the Gym guide, who seemed somewhat paralyzed with fear. "Hey! Look over your friend here, all right?"

He shakily nodded as I ran down the staircase, following the dreadful Lance. Hopefully before he attempted to kill someone else.

* * *

I arrived at a metal underground chamber. Statues of Persians with glowing red eyes were lined up against the wall. There was no sight of Lance or his Dragonite.

My breath held, I wandered in front of the first Persian. Sure enough, a Team Rocket grunt—grim, insolent, brim of his cap low on his face—ran out and approached me.

"Intruder alert!"

"Is it now," I said snidely as the grunt released his Drowzee. I directed Lorcan to it in a single, swooping gesture. "C'mon, now! Use s_urf!_"

Lorcan appeared generally indifferent, his tail twisting lazily around his head. However, his eyes were full of sharp concentration. Piles of water (don't ask me where they came from) began to spread out, splashing harshly against the Drowzee. Drowzee, barely able to hold on, leaned back and made this weird sparkling noise. I scowled.

"Whatever. Lorcan, let's use surf again—"

But Lorcan was still. His eyes were full of confusion—not at my command, particularly, but on why he cannot execute the move properly. It was _blocked_ from him. Somehow, for whatever reason, he couldn't remember how to do the move that he had done only seconds ago.

I took in a breath, studying the Drowzee. I believe I found out what that sparkling move meant.

"Okay," I said, "use that dragon rage move." Still studying the Drowzee.

Thankfully, Lorcan was able to use the move, and the purple flames erupted out of his mouth again. The Drowzee was lost in the midst of the smoke and flames. Eventually it thundered on its back, having fainted. The Team Rocket guy made a snarl that did not look good on his face at all, and took out another Poké Ball. A Zubat emerged from the Poké Ball, whirling in the air, wings flashing out with its sharp jaws bared.

Overall, it was not a difficult battle. Lorcan was able to fight the Zubat with no problems. But after the battle, another annoying Rocket guy came out of nowhere, pushing his face into mine. I couldn't even back up because of the Persian statue that was behind me.

"It's my turn!" he yelled, even though we were clearly in each other's faces. "There's no escape!"

I sighed, gesturing Lorcan to stand at the side for battle. "That really is unfortunate. After all, you lot (and you in particular) are as disgusting as the slime infested Pokémon you carry."

Well, eventually I beaten that guy, too. I don't know where all those losers went to, but they left me alone in the metal chambers. Not bothering to pass by another Persian statue (and get into even more annoying fights) I ran over the floor, evading statues as I went along, until I came across a switch.

"Yeah, better switch it," I said loud enough so the guy in scientist clothing next to me heard.

He immediately turned his head to my attention so quickly a creepy snapping sound erupted. "This was a ninja's hideout once."

I made a whistle, looking around the metal of the hideout. "I had no idea there was so much technology back in old Japan."

His face flushed. "There are traps to confound intruders like you."

Then he had us go through a Pokémon battle, right there, even though his laptop was next to him and everything. Well, I wasn't the type of person to complain in a situation like this.

So I allowed Lorcan to mess up the entire section with water, surveillance system and all.

* * *

My feet clanking against the metal steps, I descended into another chamber. Lance waited for me there, his lumpy Dragonite standing beside him. I stiffened. Miranda, who was following me at that time, viewed them curiously.

"Are you all right?" Lance asked.

I nodded and turned away. But Lance was insistent.

"Your Pokémon are tired and hurt. Here, give them some of my medicine."

So I did.

"Let's give our best for Pokémon," Lance announced once that healing was over.

He walked along the hallway and I quickly hurried to his direction in a sprint. However, I had to go through some Pokémon battles on the way, and it took some time to catch up. Once I finally did, I saw that the asshole was roughly interrogating a grunt (shoving him against the wall, threatening him with Dragonite's powers, the works), though he stopped once I came his way.

"Lyra! in order to unlock the door to the radio transmitter, you need the voice of a certain person."

"I've heard the same." Really, I had. Those grunts were the worst kind of idiots and gave every single direction for how to get past them. Even if they thought I wasn't going to make it, they should have at least realized that the hideout was not the best place for storytelling.

Lance paused, so he can announce _dramatically_ the name of the person we needed the voice of. I waited, glaring at him.

Finally, "The name of the person is Petrel, the Team Rocket Executive!"

"Sheesh. How many executives do they _have_?"

"Four. And they always argue."

"Good to know."

"I read that somewhere."

"That's not good to know."

"Anyway..."

More dramatic silence.

I glared at him.

"Annnnd..."

More glaring.

"I have found out that he, Petrel, is hiding in their leader's office!"

Lance said this like hiding in your boss's office is the most scandalous thing you can think of.

"Okay," I said.

"_Unfortunately,_ though," Lance said thoughtfully, "that room is also protected with a password..."

"Okay," I repeated.

"Lyra!" he said desperately, in that annoying, loud way he does every time he says my name. His eyes widened slowly for effect. "We need the password to their leader's office first!"

I gave Lance a serious look. "I am not five."

Lance looked momentarily shocked but quickly hid it. "Very well, then. Let us spilt up."

He went one way, implying that I would go the other way. I took a mere glance at the way and continued where Lance was going.

"Urrggh..." the grunt Lance was speaking with was groaning. I stopped and went to him.

"The guy in the cape is incredibly tough...and I had no choice but to tell him all the secrets about this hideout..."

"All of them?"

"No. I didn't tell him that the leader's office is protected with two passwords."

"Well, thank you for telling me that."

I walked off in the direction that Lance went. But I didn't find him.

* * *

One fool did, eventually, tell me a password. It was RATICATETAIL, because they probably want to chop off the tail of Joey's evolved Rattata next and call it food. Like such a thing could happen.

Another fool told me another password. It was SLOWPOKETAIL, 'cause why not, probably.

Eventually I came across the boss's room. It was also where I came across Pikachu Boy. (I almost added a Lance worthy dramatic moment right there but decided I pitied y'all.)

Pikachu Boy, in all his terrible dark clothes and messed up hairdo, in his yogurt stains and permanent scowls, came forth. He seemed stunned to see me.

Then he asked, "Are you from heaven?"

I was shocked. "You thought I was _dead?_" For some inane reason, I started thinking, _It was probably the flood. Everyone thought I died in the Marill spit flood._

But the moment my voice let loose, disclosing me as snarky Lyra, his face flushed as red as the fires on Cinder's ass.

He stared at me intently for a few goddamn moments (like he always does), before speaking like the words were painful, "You look...different today."

My eyes narrowed. I turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" he called out, running to my side. "So you are messing with them again."

I shrugged.

"Humph, you must really like Team Rocket so much."

"One, you are a hypocrite. Two, if I liked them, I would join them. Three, uh...you are still a hypocrite. So there."

I wasn't sure why Pikachu Boy randomly decided to spend time at a souvenir shop's secret underground hideout, but you know. He's probably as excited as I was about the whole thing.

"Tell me," Pikachu Boy insisted as we both stopped before the leader's office, "who was the guy in the cape who used Dragon-type Pokémon?"

"A psychopath. He also happens to be a member of the Elite Four. His name is Lance."

Pikachu Boy's fell.

"I'll make a guess, and say you've battled him."

Pikachu Boy avoided my gaze. "My Pokémon were no match for him," he said quietly.

I studied him. "Yeah, you kinda look like you're gonna throw up."

"No, I don't care that I lost," Pikachu Boy claimed, lying very badly. "I can easily beat him by getting stronger Pokémon."

"So what's the matter?"

"It's what he said that bothers me...he told me that I don't love and trust my Pokémon enough."

I bursted out laughing. Lance doesn't love and trust humanity enough.

"I'm furious that I lost to a bleeding heart like him," Pikachu Boy said fiercely.

"Okay, Pikachu," I finally said, having almost lost myself to unbearable laughter, "you don't have to listen to Lance. In fact,_ don't _listen to Lance. _I_ can't even beat Lance. Lance is just telling you all that love and friendship shit so that you can leave him alone. Really, Pika, you couldn't have beaten Lance even if you had all the love and trust of Pokémon in the world. Your Pokémon just aren't that well trained yet."

"But, Lance..."

"Lance has been training for many years. You've only been a Pokémon Trainer for about a month, or something. What did you expect in a battle between the two of you?"

At Pikachu Boy's reluctant pause, I added, "Trust me. That guy acts like a psychopath. He was just saying that stuff so you can fuck off. Although, you really do need to treat your Pokémon better, now that you mention it."

"Do you think I'm a psychopath, too?" Pikachu Boy asked. His face became tense at the prospect.

"You have certain traits. But I also think you can work over it."

Though his facial muscles relaxed, his eyes remained ablaze with anger. "After this, I will train everywhere! I will train in the deserts, in the oceans, in the beaches, I shall train even in my underwear—"

"Okay, that's enough," I interrupted. I did not like the idea of Pikachu Boy running around in his underwear. It was largely unpleasant. "You've better leave. I've got work to do."

Pikachu Boy scowled. "Well, I don't have the time for the likes of you, either!"

He shoved me aside and stalked off.

Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed...as usual. It was not impressing me anymore.

I entered the two damn passwords to unlock that door. When I got in, I noticed right away a middle-aged man in a black trench coat with one of those bowler hats to match. I walked to him, my face probably all heated up, while ignoring the Murkrow that glared at me from its corner.

"Muhahahahahahahaha, we've been waiting for you," the man said. "You must be Lyra..."

"Muhahahahahahahahahahaha, I am indeed Lyra. And you must be...?"

"Me?" He looked shocked. "You don't know who I am?"

"Nope."

"It is me, Giovanni. The majestic Giovanni himself! Wahahahaha!"

"You sound nothing like Giovanni."

"I don't?"

"Yeah. You don't even look like him."

"How come?" The man—Petrel, probably—frowned. "I've worked so hard to mimic him."

With that, Petrel tore off his disguise, since it was obviously convincing nobody. "I am a Team Rocket Executive!"

"Yeah. Petrel. I know."

"How?"

"Your grunts. They're really awful at keeping secrets, you know?"

He frowned, then chose to ignore my comment. "You must be trying to sneak into the radio-transmitter room."

"No. Lance is."

"Wait—well, never mind. That's not going to happen. Nobody is going to sneak into the radio-transmitter room, including you, lance, sword, or whatever other medieval equipment you brought."

"Even if I'm magical and I made them talk?"

"Especially then. That room is protected with a special password. And that password is 'Hail Giovanni.' "

"You people must really like your passwords," was all I said.

Petrel quickly surveyed my face. "Aren't you surprised to hear it from me?"

"Not really. Your grunts are all the same way, as I have previously mentioned. They must have learned their bad habits from somewhere."

"They_ are_ pretty dumb. Knowing this password won't help you, though. The door won't open unless I say the password. It only reacts to my voice."

And then he threw out his Zubat.

* * *

It was fairly average fight, as far as fights go. Petrel seemed to be easily impressed by my Pokémon's power, but then again, I would too if the only Trainers I were around were the Team Rocket grunts. Those grunts could be beaten in Pokémon battles by a cranberry.

After the fight (at which I had so evidently won) was over, Petrel leaned back and began to give me a history lesson. I don't know, maybe he thought I would be the future or some shit.

"Since disbanding Team Rocket three years ago, our Giovanni has been missing. But we're certain he's been waiting for the right time for our revival..."

I zoomed out for that part. It took me a while to realize when he'd stopped.

He had paused as though expecting me to say something. When I didn't, he carried on. He went on about some random things like friendship and loyalty and shit. I zoomed out for that part too. In fact, I only zoomed back in when the topic turned to the radio-transmitter room, and even then I was still tempted to sleep.

"Losing to you won't change the fact that you are unable to get in the radio-transmitter room," Petrel said. "You need my voice to unlock it."

Petrel ran away to God knows where. Then I was alone in the room with his weird...Murkrow. I gave it a pointed look as it came in front of me.

"Hail Giovanni," it said. In Petrel's voice.

Okay, I could work with this.

Murkrow ran off, and I chased after it. I chased after it all the way to that locked door, and it would keep saying "Hail Giovanni" the entire time. I'm not exactly sure why it was helping me. It must have liked my Pokémon, or something. For the first time in its life, it was faced with Pokémon that looked pretty damn decent.

Finally we came to that door. Murkrow screeched out the password like its life depended on it.

Seconds later I was passing through the door, facing red cables and wires and some other shit. A woman's voice shouted out behind me and I turned. What faced me was a sullen grunt, and a red-haired woman that strangely resembled Pikachu Boy—it was probably both the hair and the distinctive scowl that did it. She wore a swooping, long white dress that somehow didn't look good on her.

"We can't let a brat like you do as you please forever." These were her words as she gazed at me in hatred, her red eyes narrowed.

I only shrugged.

"Why did you even let a brat like me do what I please for hours, then? Why should I _not _do it forever? I've done enough already."

For whatever reason, she actually thought I was serious.

"It'll hurt Team Rocket's pride over and over again. Making it lessen, you see. So it's time to finish you. However strong you may be, if the two of us fight at the same time, you'll have no chance of winning. Don't you agree?"

"Not really—"

She gave a high-pitched laugh. "Sorry, baby. Now, get ready to get thrashed."

Lance—I honestly do not know where that idiot has been this entire time, a magical talking lance would have done more work—flew in the scene, panting, with that Dragonite of his behind him. "Hold it! A two-on-one battle? That is _so_ unfair! Typical of Team Rocket to be so sneaky. Allow _me_ to join the battle!"

"Lance, calm down," I said. "Go eat cookies or something. I can beat them on my own—"

_"What?"_ the red-haired woman said, glowering, "you had an _accomplice_?" She looked at me, silently repeating the word "accomplice," like having one is even worse than hiding in your boss's office. "Where is your sense of dignity?"

I decided to give her the silent treatment.

"As interim boss in place of Giovanni, I'll show you how wrong it is to meddle with Team Rocket...with an _accomplice_!" She shuddered at the last word, even as she tossed out her Arbok. Her grunt, next to her, ejected his Drowzee out of his Poké Ball while Lance directed his Dragonite to battle. Me, I had Lorcan fight this battle, the sky blue dragon slithering forward reluctantly. He turned back to me and we exchanged looks.

I know. These people really are too much.

I was about to give Lorcan orders when suddenly I froze. From the corners of my eyes, I watched Dragonite prepare for battle.

Okay, I'll admit that I've hardly seen Dragonite. But I've seen a bunch of them on television, and I've stared at them a million times on magazines, so I think I'll know what I'm talking about when saying that Lance's own Dragonite was much weaker than a Dragonite should be.

There were the other symptoms, as well—the symptoms of forced evolution.

A chill came down my spine as I walked over to Lance.

"I really hate what I'm going to say," I muttered, "and it's probably not going to be right. But I think you forced your _own Pokémon_ to evolve."

"What?" he said, loudly. _Very_ loudly.

Ariana and her grunt shot us looks.

For a moment, I hesitated. I realized that Lance could give the excuse that he got the Dragonite from a trade or something. It was then that I remembered that kind of thing is easily tracked and is pretty much illegal, so I continued.

I cleared my throat. "I think you forced your Dragonite to evolve."

"Speak louder. You're mumbling."

"YOU PHONY, you forced YOUR OWN POKÉMON to evolve! Even as you go after these people for evolving MAGI-CRAP!"

Ariana and the grunt both (dramatically) gasped. I pursed my lips and looked away.

Lance's face flushed, which really didn't go well with his red hair. "That is not true."

(Ariana checked something on her smartphone, and showed it to the grunt. She and the grunt gasped again.)

Lance's face flushed harder. "Fine, dammit," he snapped at me. "Go fight Team Rocket on your own. See if I care!"

With that he walked away, his shadow of a Dragonite following him. I watched them coolly before directing Hamako into battle with a stunned Lorcan.

I may have been one person going against two. And perhaps those two were adults who had experience with Pokémon that lasted for years. But it was, thankfully, an easy battle. Those people must have been drunk that hour or something. At the end of it, Ariana stretched out her arms and yawned, her red hair unraveling from the thick amount of hairspray that was on it. Her heavily applied makeup had a musty feel to it.

"But that's fine," she mused, looking somewhere out into the distance. "The broadcast experiment was a total success. It doesn't matter what happens to this hideout now."

I shrugged. "Just get the hell out of here."

Ariana looked straight at me and snickered. "You'll come to appreciate Team Rocket's true power soon enough. Enjoy yourself while you can."

She walked passed me, a wave of a perfume flooding over me. It was a terrible scent, though.

The grunt jogged lightly to keep up with her, his hands still holding his Poké Ball. I looked over his hand and caught sight of a half-empty wine bottle sticking out from his bag.

Drunk theory confirmed.

With Ariana's last high pitched laugh ringing in my ears, she left me in the eerily silent hideout with her accomplice of a grunt trailing her. As I approached the red cables, I felt my every step vibrate in the metal structure.

I stopped before those red cables, the ones that had caused all those problems to begin with. The sizzling bolts of electricity that spun in the wires make me feel uncomfortable—a single wrong move could bring a deadly end to my life. Yet, as I wandered here and there to observe the massive technology, I could find no switch among them. There seemed to be nothing I could do.

Then I noticed the Electrode, their searing power the one that was running through the circuits, and I felt a strange push to my chest. I stood next to them, my heart pumping wildly.

_If I were to make them faint..._

But wait.

I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to strike them unconscious.

_This isn't right._ My head brought currents of dizziness spiraling around, perhaps from the force of everything that had recently happened. _It isn't morally right._

It took way much too long to complete the thought, and once I did, I found myself sighing out in relief. It did occur to me that this was all absolutely ridiculous, but _that_ thought was _also_ too long to complete, so I didn't even try.

I leaned against the wall, feeling a ceaseless throbbing bang against the flesh of my forehead. My sensitive nose felt tight, still wounded from the Marill spit flood. Why can't I afford any kind of doctor? They should give health insurance for Pokémon Trainers...

I looked behind me. Like there would be someone there, a proper person, telling me what to do. There wasn't.

I shook off the headache, switching Lorcan and Cinder's Poké Balls before directing a puzzled Cinder forward.

_It's not like they're going to die,_ I thought.

"Cinder, use ember on those Electrodes."

_I can just make them faint._

The first Electrode became engulfed in billows of fire as wisps of smoke and flame sparked around the metallic floor. It became difficult to see even the outline of the Electrode's large, circular body through the masses of dark smoke that began to become dense around it.

It is clear, to anyone who knew her, that Kris would not do things like this. But I am not Kris.


	25. The Battle of Devastating Uselessness

It was quiet as I came out of the hideout, the only sound being the clanging of my footsteps against the metal steps of the staircase. There was nobody at the souvenir shop. I don't know what I was expecting. The police are obviously way too lazy to do anything, and I don't exactly think Lance would want to catch them up on what was going on. Famous or no (actually, especially if he was famous), he was going to get in hot water if the police hear about his Dragonite. They are bound to, anyway, if Lance tries get Team Rocket arrested. Ariana and her grunt has heard too much. That is, they heard _everything_.

It was time to enter the Mahogany Pokémon Gym. Apparently from the sign Gym Leader Pryce is "The Teacher of Winter's Harshness."

My money is on that some girl got her heart broken by him, or something.

* * *

Pryce's Gym

Safety: 3/10

People really, really could've slipped and died. I mean, he doesn't need to keep the ground that slippery, right? Slipping and dying isn't very safe. And neither is catching hypothermia. There should've been a sign that warned of this evil Gym's cold temperature, but there weren't any, even though everybody in the Gym was wearing a coat...

Anyway, I swear I got a cold here.

Design: 6/10

Perfect design, if placing a pack of ice over everything and calling it a day is acceptable.

Gym Trainers/Gym Leaders: 4/10

Somebody tell the Gym Trainers you're not supposed to ski on a solid flat ice floor. Or at least, skating inside a Gym should be frowned upon.

* * *

Pryce, the Gym Leader of the cold Ice Pokémon of Johto, actually had a cold that day.

Why am I not surprised.

The old man, though constantly blowing his nose, was too proud to lower the temperature. Through his sniffles, he managed to tell me, "Pokémon have many (cough) experiences (cough) in their lives, just (cough) lime we do."

I just stared at him, not really getting anything what he was saying. And partially wondering about whether I wanted to drink limeade after this. Meanwhile, Cinder was creating a new experience of how much he disliked an icy floor. He kept staring at it, and rubbing his paw on it, like he thought the ice would rub off and show the real flooring of this thing. No such luck.

Speaking of the ice, some of the Gym Trainers were skiing directly on the ice, and one of them ended up hitting me. The skis practically landed on the backs of my shoes, the force enough to break some of my skin. I had blisters over the back of my feet, and felt pain especially in the places where the back of my foot rubbed against my shoes.

"I, too..." Pryce was saying, "have seen (cough) and suffered much (cough) in my life." He blowed his nose firmly with a tissue. I watched him with concern, not getting a single word of what he was saying, even though I bet it was something really wise and shit.

"Dude, you can have my napkin," I offered. He took it, blew his nose once more, and said, "Since I am your (cough) elder, let me show you what I mean..."

I nodded, and waited.

"I have been training (cough, cough) since before you were born. I do not...lose easily..."

Not even with a cold? I decided to hold my tongue for once. This may be Pryce's dying words.

"I, Pryce—the Winter Trainer—shall demonstrate my (cough) power!"

"And I shall demonstrate mine," I said, only somewhat sarcastic as I flamboyantly directed Cinder to the scene.

"Nice gesture," Pryce said.

"Thanks," I said. "I practice."

* * *

"Willow is (cough) my middle name," Pryce called out. "Willow is flexible (cough, cough) and not easily broken. I shall not lose."

We've been battling for a while by then, and I was sleepy. Hamako, my brilliant Lapras, has practically done everything on her own. But this was a boring match, and it would bore anybody. I can't even remember what happened during those boring sixty something turns. It think it had to something about the enemy not being able to give out much damage, and it would regain its health every time Hamako got it down far enough, and it was a super boring fight, and I fell asleep. Then I woke up the same time the enemy Pokémon did, and Hamako would just look at me like "WHAT". And Pryce would blow his nose.

Something like that.

Well, at least Hamako leveled up in the Pokémon hierarchy by the end of it.

"Hmm, my luck appears to have run out," Pryce said, recalling his Dewgong. "I am impressed (cough) by your prowess."

"Thanks," I managed to get out. I yawned, but not before stiffening it with my hand. The old man probably got enough yawns already.

"With your strong will of keeping awake during an obviously pressing time," Pryce continued, "I know you will (cough) overcome all life's obstacles. You are worthy of my Badge..."

I fell asleep for the rest of it.

* * *

I woke up with a cold.

The Gym guide exclaimed that I had just fought "a hot battle that spanned generations" but it only made more tired. I left the Gym, yawning, when I got a phone call from Elm.

"Lyra, how are things going?"

"Chilly."

"Well, I called because something weird is happening with the radio broadcasts."

"They're suddenly interesting?"

Elm was silent.

"Eh?" I said.

"They were talking about Team Rocket."

I nodded, though he couldn't see it—nodding to myself. "So I was right."

"Lyra, do you know anything about this?" he asked me in a tone that was much too chilly.

"Uh, no," I said. "I just made a really good guess."

"Maybe Team Rocket has returned," he mused.

"Probably."

"No, that just can't be true!"

"Professor, have you been outside _anywhere _lately? These people have been crawling left and right with their bad marketing strategies, how the hell—I mean, er, world—have you missed them?"

"I suppose you have something of a point," Elm said stiffly, "seeing that you travel so frequently. You must have seen many things on the road." His voice was mocking. I gripped my Pokégear.

I realized something weird was going on there, so to break the tension I cheerfully added, "Damn right!"

Like I didn't feel the poison at all.

It seemed that the "stupid kid neighbor" persona would work here, and it must have, because Elm's tone considerably improved. I wasn't surprised. Acting dumb has always helped me out.

"Anyway, sorry to bug you!" he said. "Take care!"

Elm abruptly hung up, giving me a chance to continue my nap. Maybe find a tissue while I was at it.

* * *

I went to the Goldenrod Radio Tower.

The first floor was largely untampered with. At first sight I wouldn't have guessed that there was something wrong, had the music on the radio didn't change to loud James Bond music. But it did, and it was Casino Royale's James Bond on top of everything else. There was this clerk at the desk, the regular old clerk who didn't understand the ultimate form of peaches...I barely remember why I was so mean to her that day. Her forehead was wrinkled (I got the feeling she wasn't responsible for the change in music), but her voice remained as cheerfully polite as before when she spoke with me. Something, something, no visitors, something?

We narrowed our eyes as we both looked over to the Rocket guy who stood at the doorway.

He was slurping his milkshake too loudly. I was barely able to hear anything the clerk was saying.

"Hey," I said, walking over to him, "I strongly recommend you letting me through."

He glared at me. "Who are you, exactly? We have some business going on here."

Believe or not, I was kinda impressed. The guy sounded older than ten.

"I was told not let anyone pass but those of Team Rocket."

I frowned.

"Do you understand?" he demanded.

"No." I was just messing with him, but he elaborated.

"You are only allowed to come through when you wearing that cool black uniform for Team Rocket."

"Okay," I said, nodding.

I had only a vague idea of where to get a "cool black Team Rocket uniform," but it was something. Besides, I needed new clothes. Those things are never at a decent supply when it comes to me.

* * *

The tunnel.

Was there not a supply of black Team Rocket uniforms there? Had I not gotten a picture of myself taken there, with Lorcan and my Pokémon surrounding me?

When I went there, I saw a man in a Team Rocket uniform. Immediately I tensed, but he seemed calm enough as he pleasantly studied me.

"Huh? Are you a newcomer, too?"

I relaxed, but I still watched his face carefully. "Newcomer?"

"We had to recruit new members for the Radio Tower mission. Then we ran out of uniforms."

"Oh, no!" I fingered the ends of my ponytail, urging my voice to remain calm as I acted. "But he told me to get a uniform..."

"Don't worry," he said breezily, "I found some here. Since you are here, why don't you change as well?"

The awkward thing about the next few seconds is that he actually tried himself to get me changed.

He started to shove the shirt on me, rolling up the sleeves kind of like the way my mother used to change me when I was little. I squirmed out of his grasp, accidentally punching him in the nose. As he grimaced, holding up his hand to his nose in obvious pain, I messily apologized and got the hell out. I went to the storage room.

When I came out, I realized he was still standing there. Damn.

"Better head to the radio tower, then!" I was sort of running out when he called me back.

"Oh," he told me in his pleasant voice, gesturing to my new uniform, "but you shouldn't try to scare people walking around looking like that, OK?"

Oh, the irony.

And so, shredding any mere picture of dignity that I had left, I wore the Team Rocket uniform proudly upon my chest as I ran towards the Radio Tower like a bullet. Put together post-Kris mother, my reputation, Team Rocket, and the vomiting pictures altogether, and you have the picture of a shitless person that had already lost their shit a long time ago.

I was about to walk inside the Radio Tower when Pikachu Boy came up to me.

"Hey, Team Rocket!" he shouted, his reddening eyes filled of so much fury it looked like I'd just tricked him into drinking some super spicy sauces. "Stop going around in groups and troubling people. You_ cowards!_"

His head tilted towards the ground, and he spat, with as much pressure as he could, at my shoes. I dodged it, pulling the brim of my black Team Rocket cap down my face. Pikachu Boy caught my arm and pulled it away from my hat, probably just to annoy me or something. My face bitting back a frown, I backed away and looked up at him. His eyes widened before I realized I'd just made a mistake.

"Huh?" he cried out, his voice sounding panicked, hoarse. "Are you Lyra?"

_Fuck this shit,_ I thought. _Fuck it. Fuck it. _

In front of Pika Boy, I tried to fix my face into confusion. "Lyra?"

Pikachu Boy took a step closer, erasing some of the distance between us. He looked hurt. The rage diminished in his eyes, leaving a vacuous sadness. "What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer, instead taking my hat and tossing it idly into the air. _Fuck all of this. _I caught it with one hand, staring at it. My thoughts were trailing off, losing their coherence.

"No way..." Pikachu Boy gasped. "You think you're strong now that you look like them?" His face reddened, even though little I've said or done suggested that conclusion. "That's foolish! You shouldn't wear those things!" He grabbed my shirt, and pulled it off.

You read that right:_ Pulled it off. _

He wasn't even_ sure _if there was a shirt underneath.

_"WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!"_

Tugging the shirt from his hands, I slapped him (lightly, yet angrily) across the face. He stared at me in shock. I stared at him in crazed anger, before placing back on my Team Rocket shirt. It was a warm day, but eh. I paused for few moments, then I remembered what I was doing and scowled.

_"What the hell is wrong with you?_ You just don't take a person's shirt off! What's it up to you if I join Rocket, anyway?" With evilness raising within me, I added, "Seriously, _what's_ wrong with you? Are you_ a __stalking_ _person_?"

Pika Boy was silent. He placed a hand on his cheek, where I had hit him. I continued to look at him fiercely, even as I put back on my shirt. I glared through pieces of black cloth.

Finally, he muttered, "It's called a stalker."

I was like, _HE WOULD know that._

"Are you stalking me?" I repeated. It seemed, all over Johto, I've been encountering this bastard. Even when I stayed too long in one city or too little in another, he always seemed to be around where I was at. This couldn't be just coincidence. I've been seeing him so frequently for so long.

But he shook his head, over and over. "No, no, no..."

"Still, leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you. And we're not friends, so why should you care if I'm disguised as Team Rocket? Why do you even keep going after me, anyway, if you hate me so much?"

Pikachu Boy stepped back, frowning. "Disguised..."

"Yes, _disguised_. I was planning to be disguised as Team Rocket so I could infiltrate the Radio Tower." My voice managed to come out calm and icy. I stared at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Lyra."

I was waiting.

"I shouldn't have done that. Lyra, I'll do anything you want me to. I swear."

Yeah, I was waiting for that last part. You know me.

* * *

Five minutes later, Pikachu Boy walked into the Radio Tower wearing a pink sundress.

I came in too, unfortunately holding hands with Pikachu Boy. Cinder was directly behind me, and he was snickering at Pika. Cinder thought my idea was amazing. God, I love Cinder.

"This is my little sister," I told the clerk.

"Okay," she said uneasily.

I went to the grunt, releasing Pikachu's sweaty hand.

"Hey, I'm a newcomer of Team Rocket—"

"No, you're not," he spat out. "I can tell you're not. Your hairstyle is not accepted by our dress code regulations." He took pocketbook out of one of his pockets. "Here we are."

The man shoved the pocketbook inches away from my face. It was the dress code regulations for hair, if you were a grunt, that is. If you were an Executive or something you were given a creative license to act like a somewhat usual human being and could choose the shape and color of your own hair.

Anyway, the hair that the pocketbook for grunts showed acceptable was terrible short pink hair for guys and terrible bobbed pink hair for girls. The hair that was unacceptable was everything else.

"I went to the barber," I said, "but they weren't working."

"They only don't work on Sundays, and at night."

"Today is Sunday."

"Today is Tuesday."

"Well, nobody told me that," I said defensively.

"Here's where I know you're lying—every approved Team Rocket member gets a specialized smartphone, one day before their official first day. The phone has several celebrated anthems contained within it, including the anthem of Giovanni, the anthem of Giovanni's dog, and the anthem of California."

"Hotel California?" I guessed.

His face darkened. "It's 'I Love You, California.' "

I wouldn't have guessed that in a million years. I thought was that the anthem of New York, or some shit. I thought it was, "I Love You, New York."

"Also with the phone," he said gravely, "is the time, date, and day of the week. These things are uttered thrice a day with our daily teachings of Taoism, using the alarm feature of the phone. It is told to Team Rocket members everywhere."

He glared at me, his hand on his Poké Ball.

Oh, shit. I knew my total lack of awareness of the calendar in the summertime would get me killed one day.

"Wait," Pika interrupted. I'd practically forgotten he was there, he was so unimportant. "You learn Taoism?"

"We do," the grunt said, his deep voice still so grave and steady.

"Real Taoism?"

"Of course."

"Tell me one thing about Taoism, then."

The Team Rocket guy thought for a second, then brightened. "We become the tree. Then eat it."

Pika Boy looked disgusted. "That doesn't have anything to do with Taoism!"

"Well, not specifically, anyway," I said, just to be fair.

The grunt hissed as he tossed out his Raticate. "I have had enough of this. You two shall be thwarted before you soil the glorious name of the Team Rocket legacy!"

"Get out of the way, little sister," I said. "This fiery battle may put your pretty little dress on flames." I directed Cinder to the battle scene, instructing him to blast flames at the Raticate.

He obeyed, resulting in a satisfactory burst of flame searing at the Raticate's flesh. The crackles of the flames made the grunt wince.

"Good," I said. "Now try that again."

He did.

The battle was a short one. Pika looked annoyed by the end of it, taking my hand again. I resisted the temptation to slap his hand off. He insisted that it would be more credible for us to hold hands, and since I knew nothing of sisters, I allowed the little bastard to do it.

I took off my Team Rocket grunt hat and placed it on Pika's head, just for my amusement. The hat sloped down.

"You are too powerful," the grunt remarked to me, backing away deeper into the staircase. "You could spoil our plan..."

He turned and ran up the stairs, his ruckus making Cinder scowl at the chaos. The Quilava was taking a nap at the time.

Pikachu Boy turned towards me. "Your plan didn't work."

I didn't say anything.

"Huh...It was a typical idea of the meek, anyway."

I stared at a random painting on the wall behind him. "You weren't complaining much earlier."

"Whatever. I'll let you handle this, Lyra, if this is really what you want to do."

He started leaving the room. I hesitated, calling his name out. He stopped, turning back to me with an unreadable expression.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

Pain flitted across his face before becoming neutral again.

I tried to smile, but the expression was so fake it probably looked as painful as it felt. "Changing out of your dress?"

"I have to defeat the Dragon Tamer...What's his name...?"

My eyebrows furrowed. "Lance..."

"Lance! After that, it'll be your turn. Be ready for it." He began to turn his back to me before I called his name one last time.

_"Y_ou can't beat Lance. You'll just lose again."

"How can you be so sure of that?" he said, tightening his jaw. "You have absolutely no faith in me." He walked to the door, scowling as he turned back to meet my eyes. "You—"

"911!" somebody screeched, slamming the door open. Pikachu Boy was splatted against the wall as police officers came inside the room. They looked over at everyone suspiciously before stopping at Pikachu Boy.

"You're under arrest," one of the police officers said, grabbing Pikachu Boy's wrists.

Pikachu Boy gasped, his face growing pale. He at first tried to struggle but the other officers firmly shoved him to the wall. I would've said something about the entire matter, but I didn't need the police to look too closely at my black Team Rocket shirt. I crossed my arms over the red 'R', but it didn't help much.

"Team Rocket," the police officer said triumphantly, seizing the Team Rocket cap from Pikachu Boy's head, "you are currently under arrest for trespassing." He shoved Pika towards the doorway and into the street.

"That's not even an actual person from Team Rocket—" the clerk began, but the police officer still remaining stuffed an apple pastry into her mouth.

"Don't worry, my dear. We have it all under control." Then he patted her cheek.

The clerk kind of looked like she was going to throw up, but she had the dignity to take a tissue and spit out the entire apple pastry there. I salute her.

"NO!" I could hear Pikachu Boy screaming from the street. "NO! I'M NOT EVEN TEAM ROCKET—HOW WILL I BEAT LANCE NOW—"

I heard a car door slam shut.

"SHUT UP AND USE INDOOR VOICES!" one of them roared. At that point, I'm pretty sure at least half the block heard them by now and was now creeping around in the shadows.

I think I'm not the only one when I say the Johto police need more training.

* * *

A single police officer had stayed in the office for a few more seconds. He looked over to me, and his gaze was kind of creeping me out, Team Rocket shirt considered. I hugged my arms against my chest like I was cold, but I realized pretty late that all I was succeeding to do was making my shirt wrinkled.

"Is that your dress he's wearing?" He probably recognized that Pikachu Boy was a boy.

"No," I said truthfully. "I found that dress in his bag. I just dared him to wear it."

The police officer soundlessly left and closed the door. Meanwhile, Pikachu Boy was uttering earsplitting screams from the street, and the clerk was frantically licking the icing of a lemon cake to get the expired-seven-years-ago taste of the apple pastry out of her mouth. The police officers were busy arguing on who was going to take shotgun, which was unfortunate because a crowd of curious people was seriously gathering outside of the Radio Tower to see what the red-haired child was screeching about. It was something about "POLICE BRUTALITY," which is always a red flag for every good lawyer. The bad lawyers just sit around and try to get paid, I think.

I slumped against the wall of the Radio Tower, smoothing back the creases on my shirt. I was incredibly shocked at that moment.

I had no idea that anybody was any more useless than Pika Boy, but the police defeated him in that battle, hands down.


	26. Never Give up Stupid Dreams

I had some random preparations ready. They were made without much regularity and procedure at all. It was like, potion here, bandage here, lollipop here. In fact, I don't even know most of what I did. However, little planning is necessary to beat as poorly planned as Team Rocket. You must understand their stupidity so you can face it head on.

Some Mission Impossible music was playing at the Radio Tower this time. That part was good, because there's nothing that ruins the beginning of a fantastic journey like laid-back elevator music. Unfortunately, however, laid-back elevator music is Johto's everyday theme song, which means that usually the beginning of my fantastic journeys are ruined daily.

When I went up the staircase that lead to the second floor of the Radio Tower, I noticed that the original staff—Buena, her workers, all of them—were still there. I had guessed that they were kept from leaving, and never mind that there wasn't a grunt blocking the staircase by then. It wouldn't help their reputations as hostages for them to go ahead and help themselves.

"Why would they want to take over the Radio Tower?" one of the employees asked me, her makeup smudged.

I agreed with her. Why not take over the grocery store? You get free food that way.

The first Team Rocket person I had to battle there was a woman, her pink hair clipped close to her head. (It was a terrible haircut on her, and I'm glad I didn't go that far. I don't know what the fuck I would do with hair like that.) The Team Rocket grunt had no visible indications of a lethal weapon, nor was stationed near the staircase. So I still had no idea why the hell nobody just walked downstairs to gather help from the Gym trainers, or something like that. At that point, it was long enough already. You would've thought they would have died of starvation by now. I was hungry by then myself, and I'd just eaten thirty minutes ago.

Anyway, the grunt sneered at me, the heel of her tall black boots clipping loudly and annoyingly at the floor as she approached. Each step pounded in my ears. I winced, but she just sneered harder.

"Heh, it was easy to take over the place," the grunt commented, her lips bending to make some species of the sly smile. "It was boring! C'mon, amuse me." She tossed out her Arbok.

There was no way in hell I was going to walk past that gigantic snake. First of all, you could tell that her dumb snake really thought itself something, because it launched right in front of me. And I don't really have to mention the rest. Its fangs stuck out, wet with venom, and its bright purple tail coiled threateningly. Yanking at my collar, I stepped back several times. The Arbok slithered to me in the length of a human step, and I stepped back several more times.

"Sure!" I shouted at the grunt, but I was still staring at her disgusting snake. "After all, it'll be easy to get this place back. It'll be boring, too."

Well, it was boring. My mind was drifting away as I won the battle, up until she asked who I was exactly.

My attention snapped back to her. "Lynn," I said. "My name is Lynn."

"You beat me, and I won't forget it,_ Lynn_," she snarled, adjusting her hat. Though she didn't know it, she had actually adjusted her hat wrong. Her face had turned pale, and the name_ Lynn_ sounded like poison on the grunt's lips, which is unfortunate because I rather like the name Lynn.

I walked past her, not looking at her once while she glared. She was probably going to try to track me down later under the name "Lynn," and try to get a re-battle. I'm tell you right now, I'll only do something like that if I was bribed with some French tea, and maybe a lollipop.

Buena was still at her desk, staring mindlessly at her microphones. I paused, then gently tapped her shoulder.

Buena blinked and turned towards me, her long brown ponytail flipping behind her. She looked at me, but her eyes looked right past me. I shifted under that gaze.

"Huh? Today's password?"

"Uhhh..."

"HELP, of course!"

I stepped back as she turned away to mindlessly stare at her stuff again. I think she needed help. The other kind of help, I mean.

* * *

These Team Rocket people need to go back to Pokémon School. They have no sense of strategy at all.

For example, who had the dumb idea of giving a grunt Pokémon of only one type? And why poison, of all types? It's not like psychic moves are that uncommon.

For the most part, you don't need to know about the battles I had to go through. It would probably bore most people. Many of the things I go through would.

Sometimes I wonder why I have to go through all of this shit, over and over again. Then I wonder about what the hell I'll be doing if I didn't. So I direct Cinder to battle again.

* * *

Some interesting things happened, though.

I met Mary at an office. Mary, that girl who's always saying totally irrelevant things on Oak's show. She had fluffy pink hair that was tied up by two green ponytail holders, and was pretty short. I thought she'll be, you know, _older_? Like, one of those moms who always try to make jokes for their kids but are always failing? I don't know. I didn't expect her to be that way.

She was just a kid, and there really weren't that much difference between our ages. She was shivering.

"Why?" she cried, clutching to my sleeve like a kindergartener._ "Why do I have to suffer through this?"_

"Please let go of my sleeve," I said.

Mary's grip slipped off. She cast a tormented look towards her Meowth all the same. "Meowth,_ help me!"_

Meowth looked up at her weakly. I studied him, and concluded that he was never trained for battle. He would faint if he tried to battle now.

"I don't think using him in battle is a good idea," I told Mary.

"But he can meow!" Mary protested. She leaned down and started petting the Meowth frantically. It made an irritated purr. "See?"

In response, Meowth abruptly puked on her. I gave Mary a towel and decided to let her be. If she wanted to escape, the staircase was right next to her.

DJ Ben was next to them, looking equally put out. He had an airy, stereotypical surfer aspect to his voice that the radio somehow never caught. "Team Rocket..." he said. "There is something that they lack! It is music!"

I stared.

"Music enriches people's heart and soul. Music lovers would never do such horrible things at a place like here."

"Well..." I muttered, my eyes drifting up to the ceiling where Mission Impossible music was playing, "if you say so."

I walked past them, approaching a female Team Rocket grunt who was staring at somebody through the see-through window the office had.

"Hey..." I cleared my throat.

She didn't even hear me. "Proton, the leader of this Radio Tower mission...he is so cool."

"Er..."

She heard me this time. Her eyes widened, and she glanced over me almost defensively. "If you are in the way of Proton...I mean Team Rocket, I won't allow that!"

I pushed her to look through.

Well, look at that. He was actually there.

**PURPLE PROSE ALERT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

Of course, he hadn't noticed that I was looking over at him like a creeper. He was about as good looking as I remembered, perhaps more so. His hair, which was in that bold turquoise color, was still under a large, circular black hat. That hairstyle of his still curled around the edges of his face in a tasteful manner, his overall stance confident and full of authority as he spoke to a few Team Rocket grunts, his back to me. The grunts left Proton to go up a staircase and he relaxed, brushing away a stray piece of his silky hair. His lanky body stretched lazily under the artificial lights the way I always do, the creases of his attractive dark uniform expanding and straining as he did so. My attention floated towards his white belt, slung around his wrists in a loose manner. It slipped a little as I watched, and I didn't realize I was gazing at him for more than a second until the female grunt cleared her throat.

**END OF THE PURPLE PROSE ALERT. ENJOY YOUR DAY, EVERYONE.**

Six words: Damn my taste in older men.

Bending my face into indifference, I looked at that female grunt who was poised next to me, her face wrinkling from when she saw my obvious admiration.

"Er...he's all right," I said awkwardly.

She leaned against the desk behind her, her head turning back to stare at Proton from the other side of the window. "Proton and Team Rocket are all I need," she said suddenly. "Who cares about Pokémon?"

I thought about Lance, Pika Boy, Jasmine and, well, a bunch of random people. I shrugged.

"You still should've gone into another business, though," I said. "Left the whole thing for the poor saps who actually care."

"Did you not just listen to anything I said? I care so little about the whole thing, the only thing meaningful is that _he's_ doing this." The grunt unsubtly gestured to Proton.

"Well, then, you need some morals," I said simply, and proceeded to walk away. I made a short glance back some distance away—she was still staring at Proton from the other side of the window, as though I hadn't spoken with her at all.

* * *

Not much later I got a call from Irwin. Something died in me when I saw the caller ID, but I picked up the phone anyway because I knew he was going to keep calling, and walking around with a loud Pokégear wasn't much to my tastes.

"I heard, I heard, I heard!" he shouted gleefully from the speakers of my Pokégear.

"Well, hearing is better than seeing, I guess..."

"You smashed Team Rocket's hideout! You're like a move hero, even!"

"Yeah. Only I don't get a Wikipedia page."

"But, um...what exactly is Team Rocket?"

Silence.

"I'm totally out of the loop, aren't I?" Irwin said fretfully.

"It's okay. The police are probably more out of it than you are." I gave a brief explanation of who Team Rocket was and everything, and I guess he began to understand it.

So we hanged up, but then I got a call from Ethan.

"Hey, Lyra? How are you?"

"Swell. I'm trying to single-handedly beat a criminal organization without any backup. So what's up with you?"

"You're in Goldenrod City, right?"

"Yup. That's where all the evil criminal organizations strike their crimes—in the middle of bustling cities that don't have intelligent police."

"You know, if you look carefully at the Goldenrod City Gym, it's in the shape of a Clefairy?"

"I've noticed..."

"Well, maybe you should bring a Clefairy there! Something really cute might happen."

Does Ethan honestly love Pokémon, or does he just like them because they're cute? Or perhaps is it all, simply because, Marill was Kris's final gift to him?

Well, dammit, both of those two reasons were terrible ones to begin with anyway.

* * *

"Ahem...do you hear me?"

I was at the Director's room, and he was speaking at his desk. It was a richly furnished office with a red carpet patterned with yellow squares. Plants lined the newly painted dark walls. His desk itself was messy, covered with various disorganized papers. To the right was a regular laptop, to the upper left of the desk a small pot of flowers sat. There was no obvious signs of a Team Rocket grunt in the room. One may have been hiding under a flowered pot or something, but I decided it'll be a waste of my neck's power to crane and check it out.

The Director, so far, was oblivious to my presence. He leaned over his desk, his mouth way too close to the mic in my opinion. You could see the spit land on the black plastic.

"We have decided to broadcast wonderful shows to praise Team Rocket!"

Petrel. Or whatever the hell his name is, the guy who impersonated Giovanni that other time. It's got to be.

"Everyone, I don't want to hear you complain. Just do a good job to..."

His eyes trailed from the desk, and he noticed me. He backed away from the desk, studying me fretfully with bloodshot eyes. "Who are you?"

I made something between a smirk and a scowl.

He reluctantly came in closer. His eyes scanned my features before they narrowed. "Oh no, it's you again. Lyra?"

I really did come up with "Lynn" too late. Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I should've been using a fake name this entire time.

Petrel took off his costume right in front of me. First, he took his long tan coat off, slowly and flamboyantly like a stripper before dropping it on the floor, then he rose his hands to unbutton his shirt, doing so in the exact same fashion and disposing of it in about the same. I looked away coldly as he began to appear to me only partially dressed. When this procedure was done and he was clothed only in boxers and a tank top, he opened his mouth to begin his explanation, but I beat him at it.

"So you were pretending to be the Director to influence the region to support Rocket," I said. "Dude. I get it."

He gritted his teeth, placing his hand on a Poké Ball. Here we go again.

"This time I won't hold back! _Give me all you've got!"_

I'm not impressed by fervor. I'm not impressed by weakness, either, but I knew that was all this terrible actor was going to show me. Yawning, I nodded to Cinder to attack. I've really been starting to hate battle lately.

* * *

I defeated him, to the surprise of no one but him.

"But I didn't hold back this time," I heard him mutter as he placed his last Pokémon on his belt.

"Well, you shouldn't have held back last time, either. If you didn't, you would know exactly how much you needed to improve to win against me this time," I said. I knew he was never going to smart enough to take my advice, which was why I said it.

Petrel pretended not to hear me. "I suppose you want to know what happened to the real Director?"

"Sure."

"Listen carefully," Petrel said, which was a big thing to say considering that he had ignored me only moments ago. "We stashed the real Director in the underground warehouse. It's at the far end of the Goldenrod Tunnel."

"Okay," I said. I was thinking something like, _Wow, he's even telling me where to _go_._

"I am a nice guy. I will give you the basement key to get to the underground warehouse."

_Wow, he's even giving me the _key.

So, I got the key. There I was, leaving the office and entering the hall. Then I collapsed, because I hadn't slept in forever. The weight of my 95 pounds had blown up on me, and I stared weakly at the ceiling from the floor.

Cinder watched me for a few deep moments before moving forward. He kicked me.

* * *

After that, I started on my way to the subway. I was going the right direction and everything when I came across one of the Kimono girls. I didn't know why the hell she was there, but I decided to create a plan: I was going to walk past her and pretend I didn't know her.

My plans...usually don't work.

"Team Rocket members in black suits have been running around..." she told me, all mysterious and shit. And I was thinking, _Oh, fuck this._

"I was wondering what was going on," she said. She studied for a few moments before continuing. "So, you took on Team Rocket."

"Perhaps," I said bluntly, trying to leave but she skillfully blocked my way, broadly smiling.

"You are impressive!"

"Thank you," I said, making a strained smile.

"You may be able to face the legendary Poké..." Her voice trailed away.

"Pokémon?" I suggested.

Well, I'd already faced a legendary Pokémon. Suicune. None of this was news to me.

The geisha nervously laughed. "Never mind." Her dark eyes darted away from me, to the exit. "I must go now."

She left, making me feel slightly uneasy but I went ahead anyway. Nutcases like Team Rocket are the kind I beat up with Pokémon, so it all works out in the end with them. I at least have an excuse when I get rid of them. There was a sign on the wall, next to what appeared to be a metal door.

_NO ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT_

Screw that.

I took out a random pen at the bottom of my bag and lightly scribbled out a word, knowing that there shall be no consequences for my actions—

_ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT_

Perfect!

I inserted in the basement key and strolled in. Hamako was behind me at the time—it was her time for training. The collected Lapras dutifully followed me through the metal compartments of the storage, not pausing to examine the place. To be honest with you, I was almost waiting for her to mess up with something, but she never did.

I'd just entered the underground, THIS IS TEAM ROCKET ADJFAKDFAJKD part of the place when Pikachu Boy showed up behind me.

"Hold it!" he shouted, jogging up to me. He had changed back to his typical strawberry yogurt stained clothes, sadly enough.

I looked at him blankly. "I thought you were arrested."

"Well, and I thought I was just released," Pikachu Boy said, acting like I should be very impressed or something. "Apparently, due to my somewhat accurate knowledge of Taoism, they let me go."

"You don't even follow Taoism."

"I still know it. Anyway," he continued, "What I told you before was to deceive you."

My money was that he went for Lance, but he lost again, and he didn't want to tell me this because I would be right.

Pikachu boy suddenly had this weird dramatic face on, and he leaned in towards me. "I thought...it would let me tail you."

I gaped at him before the screams came.

"STUPID! YOU STUPID, STALKEY—"

"I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WOULD LEAD ME TO LANCE," he said loudly.

"HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW WHERE LANCE GOES," I said loudly, just to fit in the mood of this conservation at this point.

Pikachu Boy looked devastated at that point. "I thought you guys were friends...but he never did showed up, didn't he?"

"Obviously not."

"Well," he said, reaching into his bag, "I'll just battle you instead."

He took out a single Poké Ball from his bag, taking a deep breath.

Battling Pikachu Boy wasn't part of my to-do list so I frowned. "I—"

At that point I jumped back a little, and stared.

Because a white hologram (as well as rock music) had appeared up out of nowhere, a huge rectangle expanding mid-air in front of me. A cramped, crispy black text began to show up on it. It read:

_You are challenged by Rival Pikachu!_

My eyes widened as the hologram continued to expand, filling much of the floor around us and some of the walls. "What the _hell_ is that thing?"

Hamako stared at it like it was the Black Death: interesting, but completely useless and painful for us and society.

"Do you like it?" Pikachu Boy took out his Golbat. The words _Rival Pikachu took out GOLBAT! _appeared on the hologram. "I bought it from some random place online. I realized that sometimes you don't know when to battle, so I got this so you would know."

"I don't like it," I said. "The rock music is too loud, and I can't see the floor as well as I used to."

"Why do you want to look at the floor?"

"I just like the knowledge that there's something sturdy underneath my feet. Also, this music is still too loud."

Pika lowered it with a remote control that he randomly removed from his bag. "Better?"

"Maybe we should choose a different song completely."

Pikachu Boy scowled at me. "Hell no! I love this song! It makes me feel..._edgy._"

"...I see."

Seeing that there was no point in resisting the evil white hologram and its evil red-haired master, I told Hamako to expose the Golbat to that weird brain radiation thingy. She knew exactly what was I was talking about and proceeded to do it, but the words "_Hamako used Confuse Ray" _began to appear on the screen.

I immediately turned to Pikachu Boy. "What the hell is this? Is it going to keep saying stuff like that every time our Pokémon use a move?"

"I guess," he said as "_GOLBAT used Air Cutter" _showed up. His Pokémon started doing the exact same move right after that.

"This is so fucking annoying," I said, before adding, "Hamako, go pump some cool water into Golbat's icy soul."

The words "_Hamako used Water Pulse" _slowly began to appear, letter by letter.

"Pika, you should seriously get a refund for this."

Pikachu's Golbat was defeated by Hamako's "Water Pulse". As Pika Boy retreated his Pokémon, more words started to show up on the screen.

_"Hamako wants to learn Ice Beam. But Hamako can't learn more than four moves. Make it forget another move?"_

"Okay, now it's getting into_ our personal lives,_" I said. "Shut that thing off right now."

"I don't think I can," he said apologetically. "It's in battle mode right now. The holograms might, I don't know, become real and chew off my arm or something if I try to turn it off."

"I don't think that'll happen. That would be a terrible situation for their customer service."

"Still, I don't think it'll work. May as well suck it up, baby."

"You're not going to call me that again. Anyways, I'm going to search this up once I get access to a twenty-first century phone. What's the company's name?"

He shrugged.

"You don't know? It wasn't on the box?"

"What box?"

"The damn box it must've been mailed to you in. Surely it had some sort of address or whatever on it, at the very least?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Lyra? I used the_ internet_." He looked at me expectantly as he retreated his newly fainted Pokemon.

I switched my own Pokémon. "You bought it used? You got it outside of the box?"

"I used a fucking 3D printer and printed it out. Isn't that how online shopping works?"

"Not usually."

He looked confused, so I elaborated. "You pay for the item using a credit card or some crap, then ship an order to your address. Something like that."

Pikachu Boy went pale. "Fuck, I spent _two thousand something dollars_ on a 3D printer! _For nothing_!"

"Who told you to do _that?"_

"A 3D printer salesperson!" He twisted his red hair in his hands. "Fuck!_ Fuck_!"

"Well, you officially wasted money," I said. "Congratulations."

Privately, I was surprised. It never would have occurred to me that he could have spent two thousand dollars on something. I thought he was poor, since he keeps losing battles all the time. You would think the costs of losing random battles left and right would be devastating to his budget.

Five minutes later, Pikachu Boy was taking out out his last Pokémon. By then, the battle had been moving so quickly that our conservation barely stuttered as we went through the tiring motions of "Trying to Fucking Care." We had talked about donuts (Pikachu Boy hates donuts), books (and he hates books), as well as school (and he forgot the name of his own school). We had talked about all of that, and more, and we were still going through this awful battle. I would've kicked something, if we weren't around the end of the battle by then.

Hamako made a killing move towards Pikachu Boy's last Pokémon, though the Pokémon stayed on its feet. It swayed, his face pinched.

Strangely enough, shock passed by Pikachu Boy's features. He quickly tried to amend the expression as though it was a joke, but instead, a godawful grimace settled itself into his pale face. "Hey, hey!" he said weakly. "Why so serious?"

"Why, we weren't serious the whole time?"

Hamako made another move. You can guess what happened to Pikachu Boy's Pokémon after that.

After one of the most annoying battles I've ever gone through, it was done. I had received monetary payment for my annoyances. As I slowly placed the money in my bag, Pika's eyes twitching, I briefly considered out loud to give a few dollars to charity.

"I don't understand..." Pikachu said.

"I actually enjoy helping people who are far more unfortunate than I am," I said. "The hard part of it is finding someone like that."

"No, no...what that Lance guy said. Is it...true that I don't treat Pokémon properly?"

I blinked, lifting my eyes from my bags to him. My mind spun for a few moments before I remembered what happened, which was this: Pikachu Boy was called out for being a jackass Pikachu Trainer, and then he took everything too seriously.

Pikachu Boy was staring at a Poké Ball in one of his hands, moving it around his palm with his thumb in a circular motion. His other hand was in his pocket, perhaps curved around one of the other balls.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "So...you don't treat Pokémon properly?"

Pikachu boy didn't answer. I don't think he thought I warranted an answer. So I continued on.

"Uh, what did you do to your Pokémon this time?" Here, I have to admit I didn't even notice the battle at all as I was going through it. I was too mad at not seeing the floor.

Pikachu Boy halted the swirling his Poké Balk around to answer.

"Golbat could've kept going, but he didn't," Pikachu Boy lamented. "My starter, too. Haunter..."

"Oh," I said blandly. "I had no idea." At around this point, I decided I needed a snack.

"Love...trust...are they really what I lack? Are they keeping me from winning?"

Let me tell you what he did, because I couldn't tell him.

Pikachu Boy had trained Pokémon this time, but his strategy needed work. He should've returned his Pokémon when they were so clearly at a type disadvantage. This is what I did whenever something like that happened, and that's one of the reasons why I won today. You need to know when to switch your Pokémon.

He should've considered investing in some potions. He should've trained his Pokémon more, because mine were stronger in every way—they had weathered through more battles than his Pokémon, training with all kinds of Pokémon to reach their competency today. Also, he chose terrible Pokémon to use longterm on a journey. Like, you should really not use Golbat, unless you're a Poison-type Gym leader or something. Then it'll be educational for the kiddos who have no idea what a Poison-type looks like.

That's one of the few reasons why he lost today, and why I won. This is why I won: my Pokémon trained harder, they trained more, I'd bought a pack of potions, I know my Pokémon's moves backwards and forwards. I picked a team with a slight chance of not being totally awful. I know that a Golbat is a terrible addition to my team, and that Pikachu Boy lost to Lance for obvious reasons beyond "friendship." Even _I_ would lose against Lance, even though I am the Trainer so praised by Gym leaders for my "love of Pokémon". I know hadn't trained my Pokémon up to the point I could beat Lance yet. I know I'll lose, and if I would lose, Pikachu Boy surely would as well.

Pikachu Boy was watching me carefully then, the iris of both of his eyes gleaming red under the artificial lights. The lights weren't even reddish, either. It was eerie, how so fast and so easily his eyes could seem to turn from a deep silver in natural lights to a bright flashing crimson in some artificial ones. It was like something out of a scary movie, only we're supposed to notice it then. You're not supposed to notice something like this.

This confirms everything. Pikachu Boy is a weirdo, and now I have visual proof.

I hesitated.

"All right," I started. "Do you love your Pokémon?"

His eyes raised from the Poké Ball in his hand and met mine. "Only if they're winning."

"Uh...that probably doesn't count," I said. "Next question. Do you trust your Pokémon?"

"No."

"Okay then, you definitely need work." I was already walking deeper into the hideout before he said another word. Pikachu Boy jogged up to me, his face still baffled and thoughtful. I sighed and stopped, leaning against the wall wearily, my hands reaching into my pockets.

"I...I just don't understand," he confessed to me, like I was a shrink, or something. "But it's not going to end here. Not now. Not because of this."

I allowed my hands out of my pockets.

"Well," I said, shuffling around things in my bag in search of a lollipop, "a lot of people don't get it, anyway. You're not really alone. However, to be great, you must, uh, think great things, and do fantastic and great things. Because just doing great things isn't great enough. You have to make them fantastic too. So hold onto your spirits, because I think you have, uh, a lot of spirit in there, and listen to the voice of the dolphins—I MEAN, Pokémon. Your Pokémon. Also, don't give up your dreams, or any of that...stuff."

_Crap, _I was thinking. _I don't have any lollipops left._

"You're right, Lyra," Pikachu Boy said, smiling just so slightly. "No matter what happens, I won't give up my dream of becoming the world's best Pokémon Trainer!"

"Uh...good for you?'

"I'm gonna go beat Lance right now," he said, starting to run away. "Good luck with your life, loser."

He obviously didn't hear a single thing I was thinking. He didn't listen to much of what I said, either. Maybe I should've said what I thought, but oh fucking well. Those eyes of sheer crimson will haunt my dreams tonight, and not in a sexy way.

In fact, those thoughts are so picking at me, I think I just broke my finger out of frustration. Damn.


	27. The Team Rocket Aspiring Hairstylist

**Author's Excuse**

Sorry for the long wait, everyone. The chapter ended up longer than I thought, so it took longer to edit it. But we're out of the Radio Tower, which is a good thing. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

I didn't break a finger last night, though it did hurt like hell. What _did_ happen was that I dreamed of creepy crimson eyes on a cute kitten.

As for the hideout...

It was still my responsibility to neutralize the situation, and I hated that, but I went through it anyway. I still had to strengthen my team. That's what I told myself as I wandered deeper into the hideout, passing and battling one indistinct Team Rocket grunt after another. These people were so indistinguishable, they must have been created from a machine. It must have been a very stupid machine, in fact. If it was up to me, I would've fired the goddamn manufacturing supervisor a long time ago.

So that's with the grunts, since I don't want so spend much more time discussing them. The pattern of the hideout itself consisted of several rooms and doors, based overall on a square pattern. The doors were those sliding, elevator style kind. They were able to be moved through the use of switches that were positioned in the central room. They were annoying, and I tripped like twenty times because it was so annoying. The colored tiles on much of the floor were chipped by the time I was done with it, as scratched and dirtied up as they were. One particular green tile had the trace of my blood on it. It was my favorite tile.

On the twentieth fall, my last fall, I stayed on the ground for a few moments because I was too lazy to get up. I spotted a shard of red tile on the floor, doubtless torn away through my many falls. I picked it up, carefully enough so that I wouldn't cut myself with it, and scratched the wall with it. A stark white line showed up from beneath the shard. I looked around; nobody was there. So I carved "_PIKACHU EST PUER MOLESTUS" _into the metal wall in angry writing, and nobody even cared, because nobody yet known this writing on the walls business to happen, save for me. It was so awesome, I added, "_AUDIMUS JUPITER, MAGNA MATER," _just for the hell of it. It didn't even make sense. It probably didn't make sense grammatically, but I have to admit I didn't check for sure.

Around this time I began to hear footsteps clanging, rapid footsteps. Somebody was running here. I got to my feet and fled to the next room. I skirted around the next few rooms, the rubber soles of my shoes rubbing against the tiled floors. Eventually I found myself out of that labyrinth of doors and in just good time, because somebody had noticed my chicken scratch on the wall. People started screaming.

_"AN OCCULT CULT ATTACK! _Everyone, this is a cult's attack! Someone had written something religious on the walls! _Someone had written something religious on the walls, and we think this is the workings of a mass cult!"_

I started sprinting to the door. The alarms were beginning to sound.

_"Look at all this blood—!"_

_"Human sacrifices, that must be it!"_

"Someone has to call the police."

"You idiot! The police are also looking for _us_, we can't call _them._.."

I was running as fast as I could by then, past the metal walls and the screaming grunts and the screaming alarms and the screaming janitors. The grunts thought the writings on the walls were much more suspicious than me, so they barely looked at me. I got a phone call just then, and I ducked in behind a pile of crates to answer it. A pack of running grunts whizzed by me. They became joined by the janitors.

I accepted the phone call. _"Hello!"_

"Hi, Lyra, it's Arnie. I want to talk to you about Venonat. I'm always with my Venoat. It's so cute, I just love it!"

Meanwhile, all around me sirens were blaring, and the grunts were running and screaming, pushing each other into walls and scrambling to get to the room with the sliding doors.

"Sometimes," Arnie continued, seemingly oblivious to the loud sounds, "I give my Venoat carrots. It has such cute front teeth! It nibbles on it softly, and its beautiful big red eyes stare up at me so adorably, I could just feel my heart squeeze."

"Um," I said, ducking back after being knocked on the shoulder hard by a sprinting grunt, "I don't like bugs." I slid closer to the wall, one hand still wrapped around my Pokégear. Team Rocket grunts rushed next to me, provoking a sweaty breeze to come my way. "Sorry about that, but it's the truth. I can't talk about them coherently."

"Well," Arnie said, "to change the subject, I just—"

I couldn't hear the rest of what he said; a grunt had just screamed into my ear that moment. "Wait, uh, can you say that again?"

"I just saw a female Nidoran for the first time."

"Oh, that's great. Hey, Arnie, I have to go. We'll talk again soon, right? Sorry about this, but I have to go."

"Huh? Wait—"

I hanged up. As I was getting up from my corner behind the crates, my foot kicked something. I turned, watching an Ultra Ball slowly roll away.

Okay, Ultra Balls are worth_ a lot of money_, people. There was no way I was just letting that sweet ball roll away, destined for an executive's pocket. I jumped over the crates and pushed through the thick mass of Team Rocket grunts as I followed the rolling Ultra Ball. I shoved the shoulders of the other shoving grunts so I could stay ahead and keep the Ultra Ball within my eyesight, but suddenly I found myself tripping on someone's shoes.

I fell forward, then pushed against the guy in front of me as I got back up.

He glared at me and stepped forward, securing his left hand against the wall. "You're not going any further."

I brushed away a fallen strand of my hair. "How come?"

" 'Cause you're an enemy." He came closer. "And I don't show mercy to my enemies."

At that point, I could smell his breath. It smelled like cheese.

I scanned the hallway. The grunts had mostly all ran away, and the Ultra Ball was sitting two inches past the grunt's shoes. I slowly fell to my knees, my eyes never leaving the grunt's face.

"I'm not an enemy," I said.

"Yes, you are," the grunt said. His voice sounded pretty calm, which meant he was pretty crazy. "You're an enemy. You look like one. You look like a brat."

I slid my arm past his shoe, keeping eye contact. "You look like a big brat."

Anger flashed on his face. I gripped the Ultra Ball and quickly retreated my hand, slamming the Ultra Ball into my bag and standing up.

"See ya, brat," I said, and I ran off. He didn't catch me, probably because he tripped over his own shoes.

The hallways were generally empty. There was still the occasional grunt lying around, but they were all making selfies on wooden crates. One of them did stop me, though. He wanted to take a selfie with me.

I sat next to him on the crates as he held the smartphone up. I feel like it would be suspicious if I refused.

"Say cheese!" the grunt said with his slight Italian accent as the light flooded into our eyes. I squinted pretty damn hard, and my mouth swelled up. All in all, my face looked like it was going to explode. It was an accident, but when I allowed my eyes to relax I felt an ache settling in between the corners of my eyes. I rubbed them.

After the shot, he brought his phone closer and frowned. "Huh. Your face looks a little bit..." He hesitated, glancing at me. "You should relax your face next time."

His Italian accent was pretty cool. I actually quite liked it; it was familiar to me. My dad's mom was Italian, which is why I was able to recognize the accent.

"Yeah, it's not my best face," I said.

He agreed with me and I moved on. I found the Director eventually. He was an old man with a weathered brown jacket, the combination of which I had seen at this point a million times. Old men must be sticklers for the fashion of old men.

Anyway, the Director was contained in a small room, which showed a lack of a struggle. The man was just standing there. There wasn't a guard anywhere, nor a rope. The Director was locked there by nothing but the aches that came from old age. I silently cursed Team Rocket as I escorted the Director out because it was just too easy.

"Thank you, thank you for rescuing me," the Director hurriedly said. He wasn't quiet, but the passing Team Rocket grunts that lied on the crates barely looked up from their smartphones. "The Radio Tower!" he gasped. "What happened there?"

"Nothing much," I said. "Team Rocket took it over and played James Bond music. The radio show hosts are scared as hell, though."

"Scared as hell?"

"Pardon my coarse language. I don't know another way to describe it, sir. They're not sure they're going to make it. They're paralyzed in fear and aren't making a run for it. They might die of starvation if you don't do something."

The Director nodded grimly and gave me a key card without hesitation. He probably already knew that the police was useless without even asking.

"Use that to open the shutters on the third floor," he said.

"Nobody else can do this?"

The thing is, I was kind of shocked that he didn't have an assistant, or something. If he did, he should've asked me to bring that person. Giving important key cards to random girls is an awful plan. I could've been Team Rocket in disguise. There could have been _one single semi-genius_ in Team Rocket who thought of getting the special key card that way by tricking the Director into thinking he was being rescued.

However, I decided not to say any of that. That too would bear the mark of suspicion.

The wrinkles on his face deepened as he gave me a stern look, though. "Why are you asking me that in a time like this? I'm begging you to help me. There's no telling what they'll do if they control the transmitter."

"The transmitter?"

"They may even be able to control Pokémon using signals. That's what I'm most concerned about."

The Director had a point. I sighed, knowing that there was no way to back out of this without a more than slightly guilty conscience. I was, as he remarked right afterwards, the only one he could count on. It was a downright awful thing to admit it because nobody should ever get so low to count on me, but it was pretty much true. I was also pretty much doomed.

I was thinking how doomed I was when I ran back to the Radio Tower. It was already being past 10 PM or so, and I had yet to finish up my work. The city was still crowded, albeit with less children at these darker hours. You may as well forget about the damn crowd, though, because it was obvious that nobody out there gave a bloody shit about what was happening at the Radio Tower.

The police didn't even give a shit, and they were paid to give a shit. They didn't investigate the Radio Tower after they arrested Pikachu Boy, or arrest me, even though I was evidently an accomplice. Let's face it—the cops are corrupted. I'm not being blind about it; it was clear to anyone out there that Team Rocket was paying the cops off. It was about as clear that nobody really cared.

So those ideas, those thoughts in my mind, died almost as soon as they came. I was still bored as hell. I was still going to defeat Team Rocket and carry on with the rest of my life, hopefully out of Team Rocket's clutches because I have better things to do.

I inserted the key card in the appropriate location, which I was able to identify because it said "KEY CARD HOLDER" in neon colors above it. A small clicking sound uttered, and the metal doors that blocked my passage slides away into the walls of which they were kept. I entered the room. Nobody was really there except for this one grunt, though I think we all understand at this point guards were unnecessary. All the battles I did with them only trained my Pokémon and made me stronger.

Hamako yawned loudly, and the grunt ran away out of fear. He probably thought that Hamako made a battle roar.

Then I got a phone call _again._ This time it was from a guy named Derek. Of course, I picked it up because I had nothing else to do with my life.

"Lyra...I have decided to give you a nugget."

"A chicken nugget?" I covered my mouth

"A golden nugget," Derek said. I didn't remember who Derek was, but his voice sounded precise and steady on the phone.

"Oh," I said. "That sounds...expensive. Are you sure?"

"My Pikachu loves it," Derek said. I started to guess that he was one of those Pokéfans.

"Okay," I said awkwardly. "Thanks, Derek. But I have to go now." I hung up. I didn't even know Derek's last name, but I was perfectly prepared to head over to him in a possibly quiet area just to get a golden nugget that I earned from doing nothing.

If you're wondering why I can't bring them straight to voicemail or something, well, Pokégears suck. Or at least, _my_ Pokégear sucks. There's no texting portion, no voicemail, no camera. You can switch the backgrounds to a few different colors, and that's pretty much it. I don't know what my mom was thinking when she wasted her money and bought that piece of trash for me. It doesn't even show if you've missed calls, and it never goes on silent. You can't delete contacts, either. I should give this away to Lorcan for all the good it gives me. Maybe it can give him the social life he needs with other Dragonair. They can converse on paranormal young adult romances, or whatever else male Dragonair chat about.

I placed my nearly useless hunk of trash in my bag and walked on. There was really nothing else to do but ponder on those strange, eternally minor complexities of life (what would Lorcan do with a phone? what shimmers of intelligence is hidden deep within the stupid Team Rocket machine?). I carelessly ran up the stairs, cursing as I triggered a piece of mud on my new boots. I was kicking off the mud as I entered the room, spotting another staircase to go ip on and curse. I cursed as I approached it.

_"Now, wait one second!" _someone screamed.

I would've made a run for it had it not been Proton. So I paused instead, staring.

I don't think Proton actually noticed. He was somewhat out of breath since he ran to me, his hair slightly rustled. It looked hot, though. It totally looked hot.

"Aren't you the one who got in our way at the Slowpoke Well?" he said, his voice hoarse.

"Uh, no," I said. "That was somebody else, probably..."

"It _is_ you," Proton said in shock. "I had doubts before, since you look much more different. But I can't forget that voice."

Hamako looked disgusted. But when she noticed me looking at her, she smoothed out her expression and gave me a pleasant smile. I looked away.

"Why can't you just quit this?" I told Proton. "I suppose, uh...your options for employment would rise if you did so." At Proton's blank look, I added, "C'mon, you can't accept that many people would hire someone working with a gang organization, even if you have a nice face. It doesn't work that way, you know." At an even blanker look, I added, "Your grunts are idiots and they have bad management. Surely you'd noticed this?"

The color of his face rose. "So you're doing all this because you want to make me angry."

Well, at least the hoarseness of his voice was wearing off.

I backed away by a half step. (My legs were starting to get strangely numb by standing in one place.) "How am I making you angry?"

Proton took an entire step forward. I could see the sharp color of his light eyes in striking detail, a greenish blue color—cyan. The intricate curves around his iris were so beautifully symmetrical, looking as though they had been etched in by an artist.

"Everyone wants to make me angry nowadays. Also, you insulted my grunts, my leadership, and indirectly, my intelligence and looks. And through it all, you look at me with that insolent stare on your face..."

"An insolent stare?"

"You're doing it right now."

I adjusted my gaze; averted it. "It wasn't an insolent glare...I mean, stare. It was a nice stare."

His eyebrows furrowed. I rose my gaze back up, swallowing. His cyan eyes locked into my brown ones and he leaned forward, his sweet breath grazing the side of my face.

"Do you want to test me?" he muttered, a hand setting against my shoulder. He gently brushed strands of my hair off of my shoulder, his hands soft like velvet from where he touched my neck.

I noticed this flab of what I assume was my hair launched itself upon my face, and I dizzily shoved it away from my face. Proton watched me like he had never seen anyone dizzily shove hair before.

_What a bastard,_ I thought. _What a bloody bastard. _Another strand came to my face; I blew it away. Proton had a pained look on his face, the kind people give if someone had a huge coughing fit and they're older than you. _He's acting like he never saw less than decent hair before._

"I hate my hair," I confirmed to Proton. "I hate it so much, but I know that if I shave it off it'll grow up again and I'll just hate it more."

"Hmm."

I touched the tips of my hair, desperate enough to consider doing pigtails again.

"You don't mind if I play around with your hair, right?" Proton asked suddenly.

"Meh," I said.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

"It's a 'I don't really care.' Just don't pull on it. Or put something weird in it. You get the drill."

If he did anything awful, Hamako could literally smash Proton into pieces. She was watching everything closely with those sharp blue eyes of hers, all 400 something pounds of her tense in anticipation. One signal from me and Proton could be on the floor, his spine crumbling and his bones breaking under the weight of her fully grown mass of flesh. He could be suffocating under her tremendous weight, either slowly dying as his organs crushed inside of him, or immediately falling into the reign of death if Hamako decided to simply smash him then with one strong pull down. So basically, I don't fear Proton or anybody's bullshit when I'm with Hamako. Even gunfire would take much too long in trying to kill her.

Proton took another strand of my hair and softly pressed it to my face. "It's a nice hair color. Chestnut. Nice and straight." As if highlighting the latter features, he smoothed my hair down in long, practiced strokes. His hands felt pretty great, actually—a soothing, calming presence, like small waves lapping on ocean shores.

"You know, you don't seem to be that bad of a kid," he mused, untangling a few persistent messes. "Your Pokémon seems to like you, at least..."

"You care about Pokémon?" I said, trying to not be distracted by the weirdness of my hair, which was obviously distracting Proton.

"I care about the things I can afford to care about," he said seriously, stroking the strands of hair in his hands.

"So you don't care about Pokémon." He didn't answer to that, but at least he was honest about it. Lance can learn a thing or two from Proton's book. Knowing Lance, he might even enjoy that.

Proton kept trying to fix my hair, ruffling the things that resemble bangs down my face, experimenting with different lengths. He smoothed hair down my forehead and studied it.

"Is being a hairstylist your dream, or something?"

"Something like that." Proton's fingers froze as they touched my "chestnut" hair. I strained and fussed around to see what was wrong. His hand slipped from my hair.

"No, no," he said hurriedly, making a circular motion on my cheek to calm me, "nothing's wrong."

"Okay," I said.

Looking back, I don't know why I went through this. I think it was the thought that he was probably going to give me cool hair tips that kept me standing with him at 10 or 11 PM on a Tuesday. Proton's own hair was silky and nice, a gentle blue that matched with the color of his eyes. It was good indication of any that Proton knew what he was talking about with hair, if he really meant anything he said to me.

"Can...can I braid your hair?" he asked.

"Sure." I was desperately in love at this point.

So he started to braid my hair.

Proton's eyes rarely met with mine after that. He was transfixed with chestnut brown and straight hair, I figured there was no getting him out of it. He did my hair carefully. Each braid was made slowly, softly; had this been done by a mother, I would've said it was loving. His hands stayed gentle. Despite that, when his silken, white hand brushed against my skin once more, I turned hot and cringed.

He had let go and watched me, his eyebrows furrowed out of concern this time instead of anger. "Is something wrong?"

Our eyes met for the first time in a while. Proton's eyes seemed more of a deep blue that moment, widened slightly from my alarm. I drunk in the sight of him, of his cyan eyes.

I shook my head. "I'm okay."

He continued on, albeit a bit reluctantly. Though, over the span of a few more minutes, he gained confidence. His fingers spun around me, swift and skillful. He started humming to himself too. It was a small melodic tune, and I have it in my head right now.

I was feeling weird after a while (WHAT THE FUCK WERE WE DOING?), so I told him to quit it. He released my hair without a question and stepped back, still studying my hair carefully.

"Proton," I said. "Why are you working with Team Rocket? You're not going to get much hairstyling done in here."

Proton's face darkened. "You need...money to train," he said carefully. "You need money to get a job, and you need a job to make money."

"That's not an answer, you know. Besides, you have money. Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me that you don't have any money after all that Slowpoke cutting? The price of the Slowpoke tails were 99999999999 something in Poké dollars, and idiots actually bought it."

Proton's face froze. He looked at me like he couldn't believe that I'd just said that. I stared at him back. I was pretty fucking tired of all this bullshit. He had fucking money, he just didn't want to admit it. He was practically sitting on money and saying he didn't have it. I saw him lead the Slowpoke cutting and stuff, and I was a hundred percent sure he was rich from the whole thing.

Then Proton smiled. It was distinct from his usual cruel smirk, but I still felt shivers down my spine. "We hear Jupiter."

"I don't know why you just said that."

"_Audimus Jupiter." _He smoothed a hand over his own chin. "_Magna Mater. Molestus Puer." _He lowered his hand. "I heard about what happened in the Underground. Do you know? I also saw this selfie."

Proton tapped a bunch of random shit into his perfect iPhone. He lifted the screen to me. "See this?" He magnified the image: it was me and the Italian guy. Proton scrolled to the bottom of the image, and there was the time and date. Neither the time nor the date happened a long time ago.

"So," he said, still smiling, though that smile seemed colder to me now, "tell me everything you know about it."

I should've let him to keep braiding my hair.

"Well," I said, "what do you know about it?"

"I know that there was a lot of noise about it. I know that there were some traces of blood." His gaze drifted to my skinned knees, exposed through the ripped fabric of my pants. His gaze snapped back to my face. He was smiling as much as ever.

"Okay," I snapped. "So I was there. I know that somebody was in the area after me. I think he was the one who did it, actually."

"Ah? Then describe this person."

I made up an ordinary old man person, complete with the worn brown jacket and the gray hair, but I could tell from the light in his eyes that he knew I was lying. If this was Petrel I could've fooled them, but for whatever reason I wasn't fooling Proton. I don't know why Proton hangs around with such stupid people if he had enough brains to look past my lies. I guess it was the money. It must have been some money.

"Now, are you ready to confess to me what really happened?" Proton said when I was finished.

"I'm not changing my story."

"I won't punish the person who did the carving on the wall." Proton looked at me pointedly then.

"Still."

The light went out of his eyes. What remained was a vacuous expression as he surveyed me, biting on his thumb as he did so.

Proton said, "I would've warned you to be careful, but I know better than that. Since you seem to wish it, I'll show you the full extent of a Team Rocket Executive's wrath." His hand reached for his Poké Balls.

"We don't have to battle," I said hopefully. "Let's go out for ice cream instead."

"Why don't you confess what really happened and we both can go on with our lives?"

"What'll happen when someone confesses?"

"Nothing."

"Then what's the point?"

"Trust," Proton said.

"Trust?"

"Go figure."

I paused for three seconds. Proton waited expectantly, his fingers pausing after they encircled the cheap plastic of the Poké Ball.

Finally I said, "Can I get a lawyer?"

Executive Proton sent out Golbat.

* * *

I actually still liked Proton, even after my initial attraction wore off. Hamako was able to defeat both of his Pokémon in three hits, and I still liked him. After the battle, I almost invited him for ice cream before I remembered it was past 11 PM and everything was closing up. I didn't want to get his phone number because that would be sort of too obvious, so instead I ruffled his hair and ran up the stairs in high sped so he wouldn't kill me.

"You may have won this time, but all you did was make Team Rocket's wrath grow!" Proton screamed after me, a contrived remark that was expected of him.

He bursted into laughter the second after he said that. He knew how dumb that comment was.

Proton's a smart guy, I concluded. He's just completely wasting his life.

I reached a small room. There was a sign next to the staircase, and it read, "Go up for Observation Deck." To the side, which was led by a wide hallway, there was a red elevator. However, Ariana stood by the elevator, staring at the wall. For a spilt second, I thought she was waiting for me, but that didn't make sense. You would think she would run after me or launched thousands of grunts at me or something. It's true that she could have been the one who sent Proton, but Proton isn't that great a Pokémon battler. She should have gone with him and combined their strength.

Finally I decided that I was just going to go up to her myself. I switched Hamako with Kitty because of the former's weariness, and walked to Ariana quietly. She didn't look my way for whatever reason.

I tapped her on the shoulder. "Yo."

Ariana turned towards me, not looking surprised at all. Her lips, red with lipstick, curled as she made a grin. "Hey, you... Remember me from the hideout in Mahogany Town?" Her voice sounded flirtatious with a deeper undertone that people apparently call sexy. It was disturbing me, though.

"Yeah," I said. "I remember you."

She looked over me, still with that smile, then she looked over to the hallway, smile still latched on. "This time...this time it looks like you're really all alone. All alone..."

"Same to you," I said briskly. "Besides, I didn't even need Lance. I'm a one-woman show, you know."

"I see," she said coldly, tossing out a female Arbok. "What do you intend to do, Lyra? You can't fight us forever."

"I _could_, but then I'll get bored," I reflected. "Kitty, come here."

Arbok launched on Kitty out of nowhere, her eyes full of savage aggression. The Togetic cried out, his little white wings fluttering uselessly as the Arbok lunged her head down and bit Kitty squarely in the neck. Kitty screamed, an awful, bloodcurdling sound that made me freeze.

"Kitty, extrasensory," I said, clenching the ends of my shirt hard. I looked down; my fists were turning white. "Kitty, please, extrasensory."

Kitty escaped from Arbok, tackling and pushing his way through. He gave a look over his left wing at Arbok and shivered.

"Kit—"

A flash of pink light flared from Kitty and exploded into the Arbok. Arbok cried out, her tail waving limply as she faltered under the pulsing power. Ariana hissed, a wild look emerging from her eyes.

I released the ends of my shirt, taking Lorcan's Poké Ball. "Kitty, return._ Now._"

A shuddering Kitty came to me, and in a flash of light was once again safely within the confines of his Poké Ball. I swear, once, twice, and threw out Lorcan's ball. The Poké Ball swirled through the air. Upon hitting the ground, Lorcan was ejected, his blue tail curled up snootily around his pretty head. Purple flames mixed with a sickly yellow color broke out from his mouth, hitting Arbok. Arbok cried out once more in the midst of these crackling great flames. Then it was gone, having disappeared in a flash of pink light. I looked at Ariana and saw her retreat a Poké Ball, her face pale.

The rest of the battle went slightly better. However, I was still able to discern that most, if not all of my Pokémon, were out of it.

When her last Pokémon (Vileplume) was defeated, I retreated Cinder. Kitty was dizzy and bumped into walls as we walked around, so I went back to the Pokémon Center. My Pokémon were being healed by Nurse Joy when I felt my stomach twisting. A stab of pain dashed on my sides.

I ran—limped—to the bathroom. Leaning my head over the toilet, I abruptly puked my guts out. I stared at the toilet in disbelief. I didn't really eat anything all day, so all I just did was puke out water and contribute absolutely nothing to the world. It pissed me off.

After splashing my face with water several times, I headed out to the Radio Tower again. I was afraid that if I ate something I'll threw it up, and I was afraid that if I tried to rest I'll just stay awake thinking about the Radio Tower. So that's why I went back to the Radio Tower instead of doing something reasonable.

At the Radio Tower, I got a call from Irwin.

"Hearing about your escapades rocks my soul! It sure does!"

Oh, God.

Irwin hung up.

I was surprised that he hung up so soon, more surprised that it wasn't me who hung up first, but I wasn't about to call him and encourage further nonsense. I placed my Pokégear in my purse and moved on.

I reached the elevator that was next to Ariana. Get this, Ariana was still there. She gave me a look that was a mix of nastiness and admiration, and she was definitely still there. I walked past her trying not to look at her. The elevator had a single button available, and it was the one to go up into the Observation Deck. Like any idiot, I pressed it.

The elevator was like any other elevator in the country in that it had a blue floor, white walls, and a see-through window that showed the wires and shit that brought the elevator up and down. It's like the developers of the thing wanted you to be freaked out as the elevator creeped up, watching the wires strain and move and gasp up and down like weirdo snakes. I waited impatiently, but at least there wasn't one of those employees who operate the elevator, asking you where you wanted to go, smiling cheekily while wearing those bright blue clothes and pushing elevator buttons with fingers enclosed by white gloves. God, it would've been awkward if anyone was there. I never understand why anyone had to be in the elevators in the first place to push buttons in brining you up or down. Pushing buttons is simple enough, even for a small child.

"You've arrived at the Observation Deck," the elevator boomed once it had stopped at the top. I don't know why it did that, either.

The doors parted, revealing the Observation Deck. I walked past the doors.

I didn't expect the Radio Tower to randomly have an Observation Deck, so I wasn't expecting anything. The Observation Deck, as I soon discovered, was basically this big, circular room with windows surrounding the whole thing. The glass was either dirty or just plain old; it was blurry and distorted the view beyond the windows, giving a dreamy quality to it. I looked out. All I could see was this field, and these small crops and bushes on them. That was it.

There were binoculars, sure, but using them made the image blurrier still. I slammed my hand away from it and noticed the man who stood at the middle of the Deck. He had been so quiet I barely looked over him before. The man has bright blue hair and the white clothes of a Team Rocket Executive. Blue hair is the best hair. Proton can tell you all about that.

I reluctantly approached the Executive. It was Archer. He only heard my footsteps when I was coming near him. Archer turned around, looked slightly bewildered to see me, and frowned. Archer, as you will later realize, is a raving lunatic with abandonment issues.

"You managed to get this far...?" he said, pursing his thin lips.

"Yeah," I said.

"You must be quite the Trainer."

"Yeah."

"We intend to take over this Radio Tower and officially announce our comeback," Archer said, though I hadn't even asked him about that yet. "That should bring our boss Giovanni back from his solitary training."

"Honestly, I don't think Giovanni gives a hoot about you people anymore. He was literally hiding in a cave just to get away from you."

"That is not true. One day, we will regain our former glory! We will rule over Johto and several nice vacation spots in Kanto, and nobody can stop then. I will not allow you to interfere with our meticulous plans!"

At the time, I only wanted him to stop talking. (My stomach had an upheaval from listening to too many exclamations.)

But do you see what I mean? Archer's obsession with Giovanni who had abandoned him is depressing. It's like a bad breakup, or something. In fact, I bet that the other Executives only came in because they felt sorry for Archer. Proton didn't seem to care about anything, Petrel didn't know what he was doing, and Ariana only cared about making money. She was just too lazy for an actual job. Proton was much in the same way, actually.

"If you do not retreat," Archer said, his face beginning to turn scarlet, "I will have to remove you forcibly, through the use of a Pokémon battle."

"Fine, I'll leave," I told Archer, but he already sent out Houndour.

I bit my lower lip. "Lorcan, surf."

Lorcan began using the move. He called to water, waves of it forming around him in preparation of a torrent. Suddenly, I felt that knife of pain again, stabbing at my stomach as though intent on drawing blood. I ignored it.

The Houndour fainted. Archer was about to take out Koffing.

Lorcan gave a me a look, a worried one. I brushed away his concern, leaning against the wall.

"Don't focus on me," I said. "Focus on the battle."

Lorcan made something that resembled a frown, turning back to the Team Rocket Executive. Koffing was out by then, gloomy and disgusting. You can tell that the Pokémon wasn't happy with the way his life was turning out now. I can't blame it.

Houndoom came out after Koffing. Houndoom jumped out for my legs and started biting off more of my pants. Panicking, I kicked the Pokémon off and sent Hamako out for that one. In a few blasts of water, Houndoom was whimpering.

"That's impossible," Archer blurted out, who didn't understand that if something was happening it was evidently not impossible.

I started clenching the ends of my shirt again, staring at the floor. _Don'tthrowup,_ I thought.

"No!" Archer then cried after Houndoom was defeated. "Forgive me, Giovanni!"

"Already forgiven," I said, but Archer looked like he wanted to kill me.

"I don't know how this has happened, but our dreams...they have come to naught. I...was not up to task after all." Archer swallowed, the motion seeming painful down his white long throat. "Like Giovanni has done before me, I will disband Team Rocket here today." He was the type to give up, I guess.

Also, that other comment—_I don't know how this has happened?_—was nonsensical. Honestly, he was there the whole time. He should know what happened.

Archer stood there in hesitation, his stance swaying before he finally dipped his head to me. "Farewell," he whispered, a century of mystery and sweat hazing the air as he swooped by like a raven flying from a tree. He walked past me, that rank of sweat floating by with him. "Farewell, dear enemy, whom I was not strong enough to deflect. Farewell, Giovanni, who gave me a place and rank in life, and had ensured good things to me once; long, long ago. Farewell, sweet—"

I barfed on him.


	28. Thieves Sort of Suck

**Author's Note**

I got stuck when writing these next few chapters. Sorry.

Well, anyway, Lyra was at the Radio Tower, and she just defeated Archer in battle. Team Rocket has been disbanded again. The Director of the Radio Tower was kidnapped, but Lyra saved him. Oh, and she wrote some random stuff on the wall.

Right now, she has yet to defeat the last Gym leader, Clair.

* * *

Barfing on Archer was coincidental, but from the look on Archer's face, you'll think I did it on purpose. Though, to be fair, I guess it didn't matter whether I meant it or not. His pants were stained with barf either way.

The Director walked in the Observation Deck, stepping over gloppy piles of barf. "Oh...!"

Archer screamed and ran off, clumps of barf falling off from his sleek white polyester pants. The Director watched him coldly for a few hard moments before turning his attention back to me.

"You have already defeated them? Thank you!"

I smiled thinly before covering my mouth with a tissue immediately.

"Your courageous actions have saved Pokémon nationwide," The Director continued, seemingly unaware of my personal struggles. "You are well worth this." Actually, I was worth a lot of things, but never mind that now.

He gave me a silver wing, the item cool and soft against my left hand (the other hand was still firmly put over my mouth). I looked at the Director reluctantly.

"Please, take this," he said firmly.

This wing felt so delicate, so fine. The intricate detail of the wing's texture drew into my hand.

"I, uh..." The Director coughed awkwardly. "I don't have anything else to reward you with."

"Oh," I said, rubbing off my mouth with the napkin. I carefully placed the wing in a better part of my bag, avoiding eye contact.

"There used to be a tower right here," the Director explained. "When the tower was replaced with the Radio Tower, that Silver Wing was found at the top of the tower. Somehow, I feel like you should have it."

I pressed the handle of my bag against my hand.

"I heard from a friend from Cianwood City that you can go down the cave at Whirl Islands when you have a silver wing," the man continued.

"How? Does the wing use the science of physics and allow you to breathe underwater?"

"Uh...I have to go back to my office! See ya!"

He starting to walk out.

"Wait!" I shouted out. "Please, tell me, what is supposed to happen—"

"Oh, I just remembered," the Director said, coming back. "Um...I heard that you can't see the legendary Pokémon with only that silver wing. Apparently there is something else you need...or something like that."

"Uh..."

The Directer thought a little more. "Oh, wait. Sorry, I forgot what it was."

"So..."

"See ya!" He started out again.

"Sir!" I shouted out. "What legendary, what am I looking for—"

"Oh, I just remembered," the Director said, coming back.

I looked at him expectantly.

He smiled playfully. "Are you expecting something? This is what they call FAKE OUT."

I stared at him in disbelief for a few moments before he cleared his throat. "Oh, uh, I really must go back to my office this time. See ya!"

I only nodded. The stench of my own barf was getting to me at that point. I didn't want to open my mouth.

He walked away. For good, this time. I was still sort of looking in that direction when I got a phone call from a guy named Huey. He wanted me to hustle my ass and go back all the way to the Lighthouse and battle him. I didn't even remember who Huey was.

* * *

I left the Radio Tower, which had sucky elevator music again. There were some police officers around, but all of them had useless information. For example, one of them had told me, "The Director is nice again, just as he was before."

Great, just great. Instead of everyone thinking that Team Rocket had anything to do with it, they're all going to think that the Director has some kind of serious split personality problems. Leave it to the Johto police force to make everything complicated.

I was about to turn to the Pokémon Center when I heard the sound of crunching glass. I stepped back and began to peer out from the other end. The stench of smoke drifted from that direction.

I spotted Proton amidst the dust. He was standing somewhere near the corners, gingerly holding a cigarette. His hair was no longer disheveled, but he had a small frown on his face. He was probably thinking of all the ways his life has got rotten.

Proton hadn't noticed me yet. I still stood at the outskirts, Hamako standing behind me. Proton blew into his cigarette, smoke floating out into the thick night air. He held his head back and inhaled, his breathing shallow. I backed away and waited from the edge of the Radio Tower, holding in my soft breaths. Hamako followed my lead and did nothing. She, too, stayed paralyzed in silence. I studied Proton. He had on a royal blue backpack. A bulging folded tent poked up from it.

It was then that I noticed the smashed Poké Balls on the floor. Proton rubbed his foot over one of them and rolled it over, the Poké Ball now soiled. Wires probed out of the fine linings. From the other Poké Ball came the ominous smell of sulfur.

"Lyra," Proton said.

I said nothing.

We were alone, as far as I could see. There wasn't any Team Rocket grunts lurking around from the corners, nor any sign of a police officer's flashy deep blue coat. The street was quiet.

"I don't know where the others went," Proton said. He blew from his cigarette again.

I nearly choked on the smoke, so I stepped back. "Where are your Pokémon?"

Proton smiled. It was of the chilling variant this time, a sneaking presence that quickly rose the corners of his mouth.

"I don't know."

I felt a chill passing through my spine.

"Hamako, let's go," I said, starting back to the front of the Radio Tower. A black police car stood there, containing black handcuffs inside a black piece of cloth sitting atop one of the front seats.

I was thinking whether I should tell the police that Proton killed his Pokémon but thought better of it. I moved on.

Hamako followed me. Once she had gone up to me she tugged on my sleeve. I turned my head to her direction and saw Proton's former Pokémon, a Golbat and a Weezing, going around listlessly at the back of an alley. My insides deflated in relief, and I decided to forgive Hamako for the rip she caused to my sleeves.

Proton frowned, approaching me. He saw what I was looking at and his mouth twisted.

"You thought I did something to them."

"Sure. You're just making assumptions. The only thing I thought about was where I'm going tonight."

Proton dropped his cigarette and snubbed it with the end of his boots. "I don't have any intention to reunite Team Rocket. Team Rocket is a failure. It's the product of a not entirely sound mind."

"I'm glad you think so."

"I plan to leave Johto. You're not going to see me again, Lyra."

"Kanto?"

Everyone goes to Kanto. Hell, my mother has probably gone to Kanto twice since I've left home, and she never leaves the house.

Proton's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Sinnoh."

"You're not going to like Team Galactic. I've seen them in the news. Their matching haircuts are from a different century and their clothes are misshapen corsets. They look less dangerous than the American cricket team."

"They're doing better," Proton insisted.

"Team Galactic is doing worse."

"No, the cricket chaps, they're doing better. People are learning the rules of the game now. Anyway, I don't intend to join Team Galactic. I only want be on holiday."

"Seriously?"

"Hell no. I can't even travel to Sinnoh, much less pay for a resort. Who has that kind of money?"

"People who chop of a Slowpoke's tail and make it worth like a million dollars each."

Hamako at this point began opening my bag. I ignored her. Sometimes, my Pokémon randomly open my bag for snacks, and I usually ignore them.

"What happened to the money?" I said.

"I don't know," Proton said. Of course he was lying.

"Who has it?"

Proton scowled. "This doesn't concern you."

It probably did.

_Oh, fuck,_ I thought.

Shouldn't we have gotten back the money they earned along with the Slowpokes? It wasn't so great of them to keep the money they earned without any penalty. We should've forced them to give us at least some portion of the money back, for "damages." After all, they took our Slowpokes, had the tails cut off, and now they got the money for selling the tails...was that not theft? Wasn't both the money and the Slowpokes a matter of theft? That's like stealing dresses and selling them to someone, then getting the money. The thief shouldn't be allowed to keep the money they got from the dresses, right, if the thief was caught? Isn't somebody here supposed to get money back from the guy who stole them? It was nearing midnight, and my mind went through these kinds of moral dilemmas.

And then...who knew? They may have had Slowpokes secretly bred for their purposes, and now...

"Who has the money?" I repeated.

Proton walked away. I walked with him. A sudden whirl of wind blasted by me, but I generally ignored it until I realized my bag was hanging open. Hastily, I zipped it back up. We approached the sidewalks, and the streetlights. There was some stray cars out and about.

I pressed my fist against my jeans. "Do you know who has the money?"

Proton didn't answer.

"And you never got any money back?"

Proton still didn't answer. He cocked his head to one side slightly, like he was thinking, but it was obvious that he was just screwing with me. Well, screw my life.

I continued my questioning. "It was Archer, wasn't?"

"It was for Giovanni," Proton said slowly.

"But Giovanni never came."

"Stop asking and telling me about these things," Proton said. He seemed mildly amused. Still kind of pissed, though.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Ah, the questions return?" Proton smiled slowly. "Already?"

"They had to return at one point."

"I'm going to leave the city, okay?" Proton said. "I don't want anything to do with Team Rocket. I'm not going to do anything with Team Rocket. Okay?"

"Umm..."

"Now if you just excuse me, I have the rest of my life to live."

Proton made a run for it. The second the light turned red he ran across the sidewalk, weaving though the honking cars. He probably thought he was so badass, to run in front of honking cars like that.

I turned to Hamako.

"Okay, so maybe I was kind of weird and nosy about it. So bloody what? He deserves it. Nobody is going to interrogate him besides me. The police doesn't care. Kurt is too old. The only person who can do anything about anything is me. And besides, that guy swindled a lot of people. He took the money of a bunch of people."

Hamako stared at me blankly. Then with her front flippers, she showed me one of my Ultra Balls.

"Right," I said. Then I added, randomly, "I have four of those."

Hamako dumped out all my Poké Balls from my bag. There was only two Ultra Balls. My blood ran cold. I looked at the gutter, but the innocent looking thing only smelled completely disgusting, and there was nothing around it but dead leaves. There was no imprint of a Poké Ball of any type around the mushy mud.

I looked at the other side of the street, where Proton was. He was holding the other two Ultra Balls.

"Goddamn," I said.

But I soon realized that Proton looked confused. He held the Ultra Balls limply in his hands and didn't glance at my direction once. His Crobat, on the other hand, was directly in front of him. The Crobat glanced towards my direction and leered at me, crackling.

Hamako advised me to just ignore them. She had such nonsensical ideas, like Crobat's theft not being important enough to risk my life running across the street. What weirdness, right? Still, I had to listen, because she was huge compared to me and would win if we had a fight.

"You're should've zipped the bag up, Hamako," I said. "What did you need from it, anyway?"

She said that none of that was necessary now, and that only patience could be my answer at the moment. I shrugged it off and was about to leave the block, feeling pathetic about the whole thing. But I planned on getting revenge later. Revenge is going to happen, I'm sure.

_Let him keep my stupid Ultra Balls, anyway, _I thought. _He probably will waste them all up._

It was late, the air smelled late with that heaviness the air seems to obtain during the later hours of the evening, and you couldn't see shit.

Then I heard shuffling behind me. When I whipped my head around, I found the words _"KILL THE PIKACHU CHILD" _scrawled over the wall in still wet red paint, drops of paint running down to the sidewalk. There seemed to be nobody around when I glanced over the place, but like I said, you couldn't see shit in that kind of darkness. My heartbeat quickened, my breathing lessened. I tried to think it through the lagging of my mind whether it is associated with me or not.

I didn't write anything bad earlier, when I wrote at the wall of the Team Rocket hideout. I just wrote "Pikachu is an annoying boy," and "We hear Jupiter, Great Mother," or something weird like that. Jupiter is a cool name, so I wrote that in, and Magna Mater is something I read in a H.P. Lovecraft short story. And "_audimus"_, which means "we hear," was one of the first words I remembered from Latin at the top of my head.

Anyway, I no longer feel safe in Goldenrod, so I was okay with leaving for Blackthorn. Like, super okay. I don't think I'm considered a "Pikachu child", but you never know with this kind of stuff.

* * *

Well, I practically brought the entries up to today. I didn't think I could make it, considering how many sittings I had to go through in order to recount what happened at the Radio Tower. I hate the Radio Tower now. Every time I see it now, sitting proudly on a nice plot of land at Goldenrod, I want to murder it. Anyway, for the last few days, I've been doing nothing but randomly walk around and pretend to be a busy and worthwhile person. I didn't really know what to do from here and out—go to the Whirlpool place with the silver wing, or continue on with my Pokémon journey? After an incredible, worthwhile one-sided thought conversation with myself at a coffee shop, I decided to go on to the eighth Gym leader. I've already defeated seven of them, so beating one more doesn't seem to be like much work. All I have to do is keep my mouth shut so I avoid saying some bad crap, and before I know it, I'll get the last Gym badge.

I know that the eighth Gym leader is the strongest one, which means that it must be a responsible, respectable person. I mean, really, they're not going to put in some kind of crybaby in there. The eighth Gym leader will be tough and strong, but after my well deserved victory, he or she will gracefully give me my badge and allow me to continue on with my journey and proceed to defeat the powerful Elite Four. With those great thoughts in mind, I began to set off for the eighth Gym badge!


	29. An Annoying Monologue

I had much in the way of disappointments. This Pokémon training life is just not fucking worth it. Once I really get started you'll understand what I mean, but for now I'm going to start with the beginning. Every tedious detail of my travel there must be expected to be savored by my readers, since that's how every published author I've read goes with.

First I looked at the map that was installed in my Pokégear. I figured that the eighth Gym leader must be in Blackthorn City, since that's the only major place I haven't checked out yet in Johto. The curious thing is, the caption for Blackthorn City read, "A mysterious mountain village cut into a rock face." This was odd because cities typically aren't villages. I should've known right from the start that this was trouble, but instead I thought the strangeness came from it being in the odd land of Johto. Besides, there were other bothersome things to look at, like the fact that Blackthron was a long hike ahead, and that it'll be dark long before I reached it if I went at this time. I decided to set out at this time anyway.

According to the Pokégear, there were two ways of reaching Blackthorn from Goldenrod, and both were pretty long. I took the route that went north and curled to the east, since that route had less caves. On the way I saw Irvin, but I ignored him so he didn't notice me as I ran past. I ran through everything, actually. I ran through the creepy National Park that was full of the sounds of piano music even at night, past the Ecruteak Dance Theater that had glowing windows during the night, and the Poké Mart which I guess has nothing to do with the night besides being opened twenty-four dash seven.

Eventually, I came to a part where I would have to go inside a waterfall cave. I wasn't much into it, so I jumped into a lake instead. The swim at the lake took only two seconds before I got to the other side, which increased my productivity by quite a bit. After the small lake adventure, I was walking in leisure when Cinder pointed out that Suicune was standing over to the side. I stopped, looking over in silence.

Suicune was giving me a glare. The legendary Pokémon was standing in the midst of a field of trees, three of them the Apricorn kind. With caution, I began my way around the trees and into that small meadow Suicune was at. Suicune looked at me for a few more seconds, decided he had enough, and jumped away again. I watched in complete indifference before moving to get Apricorns from the trees.

It was a cool night, devoid of the summer heat that so dreadfully marked the day. I left my hair in a ponytail and a gentle breeze ticked my neck as I positioned myself to shake the trees. The moon wasn't there in the night sky and in its absence were the sparks of distant stars, clumped together as though held by a familial bond. I blew my hair from my face and began to shake one of the Apricorn tree, the twisted bark of the tree was cold under my bare hands. One of my fingers was lightly pricked by the rough bark as I looked over to where I knew Ecruteak City laid. It must have been busy, but from the distance, it appeared serene and silent. The lights of the city, subdued by the aforementioned distance, shined strikingly in the darkened buildings. I continued to shake the Apricorn Tree.

"HOW BRAVE IT IS!" someone shrieked down my neck. "HOW REFRESHING IT IS! HOW BEAUTIFUL! HOW QUICK IT IS!"

I screamed and spun around. It was Suicune's most blatant lover, Eusine, who shouted at the dark heavens with his fists in the air.

For a spilt second I thought of those middle school plays, all over again. To make matters worse, Eusine started referring Shakespeare. It didn't make sense in context, but then again, a lot of things don't.

"OH, QUEEN NAB! FAIRIES' MIDWIFE, COME TO MY NOSE TONIGHT! LET ME DREAM SWEET DREAMS OF SUICUNE TONIGHT!"

"Eusine—" I began, but he didn't stop. The most cringeworthy of rants lived on.

"COME THROUGH MY BRAIN WITH THAT GRASSHOPPER COVER OF YOURS AND LET ME DREAM OF LOVE TONIGHT! LET ME DREAM OF SUICUNE'S BEAUTIFUL, REFRESHING BLUE HAIR—I MEAN, FUR! LET ME DREAM OF LOVE! LET ME CATCH SUICUNE, EVEN! OH, QUEEN NAB, YOU WHO GALLOPS OVER THE NOSES OF STORE CLERKS SO THEY DREAM OF SMELLING CLOTHES, AND DANCE OVER RANDOM PEOPLE'S LIPS SO THEY DREAM OF KISSING AND OTHER ABNORMAL ACTIVITIES, AND DRIVE OVER SOLDIERS' NECKS SO THEY HAVE BAD DREAMS AND MAKE FRANTIC PRAYERS AT 2 AM, YOU, QUEEN NAB, I BEG, TO GIVE ME DREAMS OF SUICUNE! QUEEN NAB, IT IS SHE THAT ALLOWS WOMEN TO GIVE BIRTH BY RUNNING OVER THEM IN LITTLE CARRIAGES MADE OF BUGS! QUEEN NAB, IT IS YOU WHO BRAID THE MANES OF HORSES IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT FOR NO REASON, AND WHO—"

"SHUT UP!" I screamed.

Eusine squinted into the darkness, now smiling. "Oh, Lyra, is that you?"

"Wait...you didn't know I was here? Who were you talking to?"

"Well, Lyra, if you speak to the fairies of the mystical forests, they sometimes talk to you back."

"No offense, but they're probably going to scream back curses because you disturbed their sleep."

Eusine sighed, his smile fading away. "You always seem to be around where Suicune would appear. Are you looking for Suicune, too?"

"I guess," I said. "I must subconsciously be looking for the damn thing."

Eusine's lips bent down to a firm line. He played with his lips, his eyebrows furrowing. He seemingly didn't hear the last part I said.

"My desire to search for Suicune is far beyond yours," he said. His words sounded vicious. "My grandpa...was quite into myths. I've heard so many stories about Suicune from him." Eusine turned away from me like he couldn't bear to look at me anymore. I waited patiently behind him as he uttered one last little monologue.

"Suicune, I won't stop following you until I've found out what you're after..._ You hear me!_" He screamed that part out with a surprisingly large extent of energy for one that was shouting themselves hoarse a few minutes ago.

I placed my hands over my ears immediately, but it seemed like the drama had ended. With resignation, Eusine walked to where Suicune jumped to before, his white cloak dragging on the floor.

Eusine had spent years trying to do what I manage to do without even trying. He couldn't get Suicune to get to him at all. To be honest with you, Suicune is probably creeped out by Eusine's obsession, but there was no way for Eusine to figure these things out, or fix it. Forever, he was going to try to get Suicune, and forever, he was going to lose. If Eusine couldn't get Suicune tonight, or the other night, or the good million chances he had before, he's never going to get Suicune. Tonight was a bad night for Eusine, and he will always have bad nights. Each night would mean another day had gone to waste in his search of Suicune. He thinks he's getting closer, but he never is. Suicune will have those jumps ahead every single time.

I went back to the Apricorn trees, shook them all, and Apricorns popped out. For me, it was a good night. Even if I had three phone calls all in the span of five minutes, and if my ears were still ringing from Eusine's perturbing extra long monologue, it was still a good night.

Cinder sneezed twice. I wondered if he had a cold.

* * *

You may be wondering how I went from being perfectly satisfied to perfectly nuts. Well, we're not at Blackthorn yet, but believe me, I would've been shocked if I knew I was going to go crazy at Blackthorn too.

Still, not all was right on the road. As mentioned previously, I had three phone calls received in the span of five minutes. The first one wanted to make a random conversation about his Venonat. The other two wanted me to battle them again. All of them just happened to be guys. I don't understand my sudden allurement to guys, if that's what this is, but this is starting to bug me. Unfortunately, putting a Pokégear on silent isn't an option, so I sort of have to go on with my life. Why did I give everyone who asked my phone number? I don't even remember why. All the common sense in my brain must have taken a three month journey like the rest of me.

Another thing that happened was that I had a strong urge to...do something. I was in the middle of the woods with no bathroom around for miles, so I went deeper in and found a nice, lonely bush. I started to, you know, do my business, when I noticed a shadow of a human figure from the corner of my eyes. It was a bad moment. I panicked and ran off, freaking out about that random person. I fell into the ground, knees first, and strokes of pain slashed at my knees as I stumbled down. I got up, with my clothing full of grass stains and dirt. My pants were ripped at the knees, and when I touched it, I felt a stab of pain. I rose my hands to view a small drop of blood, lingering at my palm, as it slowly dripped down my palm and near my wrist.

A few minutes later I bumped into a fisherman. He was confused by my sudden emergence from the darkness, but wanted to have a Pokémon battle with me. I couldn't refuse, because Miranda licked the fisherman's shoes with evil intent, and Cinder encouraged her because he thought it was all good fun.

I didn't know why this shit always happens to me, but it always happens.

Then, a girl named Krise called me. She wanted me to go to the National Park for whatever reason. I talked to her quickly and turned off the Pokégear. When I walked back to where I'd tried to piss before, I realized that the thing I was alarmed by was the humanlike shadow of a cranberry bush. I mentally slapped myself.

I ran to Mahogany Town. Even though the "town" was out there in the middle of nowhere, I too was in the middle of nowhere and it took a short amount of time to get there. The dreary rustic place was as quiet as usual, a sore point for a place based around tourism. I hurried to the Pokémon Center, discovered that they had no bathroom, but there was a changing room downstairs. I went downstairs on an escalator that sounded like a snake, ready to change my disgusting garments when the clerk started giving me a tour.

"Hello, come over here!" she called out, from behind her blue counter. I froze.

She beamed at me as I came closer. "Hello. I'm so glad to meet you. My name is Teala, and I'm your guide to the Pokémon Wi-Fi Club."

"Where is the changing room?"

"I have to tell you something about Wi-Fi now, or something like that. So hold it in there."

"Um—" I started, but she cut me off.

"First, I need to give you this," she said, handing me a Pal Pad.

I placed the Pad carefully into my bag, then tried to excuse myself. Cinder sneezed, loudly.

"No, no, this is only going to take a minute," Teala said. "that's your Pal Pad. You may register your friends in it." I didn't have the heart to tell her that my only friend moved away a while ago. "Once registered, you may link with those friends over Nintendo Wi-Fi Connection to trade Pokémon, battle, and so on."

"Does it connect with people in Hoenn?" I interrupted.

She blinked. "Uh, no. Anyway, would you like to know more?"

Hell no. "No, thank you."

"I hope you enjoy using Nintendo WFC!" she added with a practiced smile. She immediately looked over my shoulder for the next victim—customer. Cinder backed away from her gaze before shivering.

I sprinted to the barely existent changing room that was around the corner around another corner and down the hall. Don't try to look for it on your own, it barely exists. I was in such a rush, I didn't realize until I got out that Teala had no obvious way of getting out of work. Judging from her location at her workplace, she would have to climb over the counter every day to leave work. She was blocked, on all sides, by the counter and three walls, with a door nonexistent. This situation must have been created by her fellow enemies at work. The brown haired man at the other desk with the vanilla milkshake seemed suspicious, and so did the girl with the curled red hair, who was gathering up paperwork.

Remember, how a long time ago, I thought of working at the Pokémon Center for easy money? Forget about it. It's a cutthroat world over there.

* * *

The village took only a minute to go through, but prior to going on the road I bought a RageCandyBar as a souvenir. I don't intend on eating it, because the wrapper advertised the candy having seventeen types of nuts in it, and I'm not sure if I like even half of them. Still, everyone buys RageCandyBars at Mahogany Town, so I felt obliged to do the same.

I entered Route 44 for the first time. It was notable because Cinder decided to evolve into a Typhlosion there.

I wasn't expecting him to mature so quickly. Until he evolved, he was quiet and unassuming. To be honest with you, because I know Cinder isn't reading this right now, I had kind of been ignoring him in the middle of everything else going on. The other Pokémon (save for Hamako, I suppose) constantly demanded attention. Cinder, on the other hand, had been quietly growing on the side. My heart broke at the revelation, so I vowed to spend the next few hours focused on Cinder.

Typhlosion was like an extended version of Quilava that learned to walk. It also grew some sharper teeth. I asked Cinder jokingly to display those teeth to me, and he bit Kitty in response. He meant it as a joke, but Kitty started crying and wouldn't stop until I bought another RageCandyBar for him to eat. Kitty was amused by sucking the chocolate for a while, but eventually the chocolate melted and Kitty cried some more. I had to give him an Apricorn for him to play fetch with. He tried to play fetch with Miranda, but instead of giving the Apricorn back, she threw it into a lake. She apparently thought that fetch was a degrading game. Lorcan painstakingly suggested they all play tag, so they started doing that, but it was clear from the start that Hamako had an extreme disadvantage and Cinder had an extreme advantage. So right off the bat, I spent the next few hours trying to get Kitty not to cry, buying candy bars and teaching them how to play fetch, and I was spending none of that time with Cinder. Cinder, who had so quietly grown, I barely notice that he was becoming an adult until he had to literally explode in front of me. I have problems with my observation skills.

I decided for us to take a break from traveling and to lay down for a while. I bought a cheap sleeping bag at Goldenrod. I laid it out, putting everyone in their Poké Balls save for Cinder, because it was still his training period. Cinder accepted this, curling up on the dark blue blankets that I had provided for him. I couldn't fall asleep. I stared at the night sky, still thinking.

After a while, Cinder got up. I got up, too. He was pretty tall by now, but I was still taller. I'd gotten taller since the beginning of my Pokémon journey, though of course, it hadn't been by much.

"I couldn't sleep, either," I said. "Let's go beat some random Ace Trainers on the road."

We walked over to the main path. We didn't have to communicate anymore than that. We knew where each other was going. It feels like we've been going to the same place since that first day. It would've been a nice moment and all, but Cinder kept yawning and my nose kept itching.

* * *

So, after all of that, I had to cross the Ice Path. The name sounds dangerous and vague, and the path itself is dangerous and vague. For once, the Johto cartographers finally have something right.


	30. Mental Torture Inside Some Ice Cave

The quiet of the Ice Path was eerie. Surrounded by all sides of still ice, every trembling step I made echoed inside of me. The cave was beautiful, from the shattering light it reflected in its white walls, to the fact that it wasn't crumbly and dirty with the mud that plagued the other caves. I hated it almost immediately.

Not two seconds was I in when a Zubat slammed into my head. The rude creature shrieked into my face before I batted it away.

Cinder commented on the rudeness of the Zubat, then asked for food.

I was at loss for a few moments. Finally I noticed a pale green plant sprouting from the side of a nearby iceberg. (I'm pretty sure it was an iceberg. It was large, and was on top of a puddle.)

I pointed out the plant. "Eat that."

Cinder glared at me. He walked over to the iceberg and nudged the plant with the edge of his foot. The plant vibrated under his foot before suddenly becoming still. Cinder kicked it, and it made the ominous sound of a balloon popping. Cinder then told me he couldn't eat it because it was evil. We moved on.

I thought we were making good progress seeing from the good ten steps I made, but after that I placed my step on a thick coat of ice. Before you judge me, I have to say that the way forward was covered in that ice. There was no other way to go on, and I thought that maybe the ice was secretly snow in disguise. Actually, I don't know what I was thinking, other that it made no sense.

I placed my step on that ice and my life was never the same again. I slid into the wall, my nose making hard contact on the wall. The collision made my world swirl, and I lurched back, dizziness setting a temporary blur around my vision. I clasped my hand over my nose, and when I removed it, I saw splats of blood gushing all over my fingers. Again.

I pulled up the ends of my shirt, dabbed it at my bleeding nose, and kept going. My vision cleared enough for me to see that I wasn't going to go anywhere in the world. The ice radiated coldness around the entire cave, the temperature becoming more cold the further I got in. I slipped around the ice like an injured figure skater. Worse, the Battle Frontier theme song was stuck in my head, reminding me of what a loser I was. The song was about keeping your dreams alive, but my dreams were freezing up somewhere in a cave during the summertime. I was obviously not strong, I literally suffered at least three injuries in the last day. I would probably do awful in the Battle Frontier, too. I would suck too hard to even get to a Frontier Brain. All the decent Pokémon Trainers would be there, and I would never measure up to any of that.

After all of that, I sighed and went on with my life. I was still in a lonely winter wonderland, but I thought about the last Gym Leader and how soon I was to defeating him or her and stuff. Those were nicer thoughts.

The ice filled much of my vision, a glaring white in some spots, a deep slushy navy blue in others. Cold rocks of ice bordered my slippery path. When I reached those slushy blues, those solid pieces of ground, I ran through it despite knowing better. I fled through the ice currents that surrounded and submerged me, and realized as I fled by, that even though it was night outside, the cave remained bright, like something from a dream.

From the fringes of my vision, I came across a lonely old man, with a hollow smile...he left his freaking Poké Ball in a field of ice below. I left him, ran out, went back out to that solid field of ice, slipped across it, took the Poké Ball. He allowed me to keep it; it had a HM in it, Waterfall... I thought nothing of it. I left it in my bag, and returned to that path, to the empty corridors of ice that awaited me, taking myself to vacuous rooms that had nothing but the ruins of ice and stone to sight. It was a boring business and all.

The Golbats and Swab Pokémon made it worse. They made it torture. It was like my early days training Cinder, when all the Pokémon were boring mutant rats. The Pokémon was the part that really killed me. The same Pokémon came for us, over and over again. Oh my God, they came and came and came. Every time we fought and won, but more of their spawn came to take their place. I used repel, but the repel was used up in about seven seconds. The rest of the time I had to endure the useless taunts of the Golbats.

I don't even know how Cinder didn't heat the ice to water or anything. That ice was fucking made to last. But Cinder looked terrified on ice, which I can't blame him for.

You probably understand that I almost went insane from the self-inflicted mental torture, so I'm just going to skip the rest of the Ice Path.

* * *

No, wait, never mind.

I'm not going to skip the rest of the Ice Path. I saw another one of those Geisha girls there, towards the end of the path.

I was twirling around on another field of mirroring ice, that last one, when I saw her. She was standing on a quite impossible spot, right in the middle of the field without any rocks for her to have slid from to create her position.

"Me oh my...is that you, Lyra?"

"Who's Lyra?" I asked stupidly. Remember, this was after the yawn inducing Ice Path. Any another time I would've known enough to realize acting dumb wouldn't have worked. I have become visible enough to the Kimono girls.

The woman merely smiled, as though pleased at my little "joke." "Fancy meeting you here!"

"Same to you too," I said blankly. Her position on the ice was impossible for me to make. I noticed it from the start. I kept realizing it.

"To tell the truth...my sandals are frozen on the ice, and I am stuck here. In other words, my flip-flops are quick-frozen to the ground."

My shoes had never frozen to the ground, but suppose it was different with her shoes? Perhaps that was why her position was so weird? I looked down to her shoes, trying to figure shit out.

She giggled, and my head whipped back up.

"Well, it's no laughing matter," she amended. "Would you come around and push my back?"

_I don't know, _I thought. _Are you going to come around my house and stab my back if I don't?_

"Sure!" I said cheerfully.

I hate the ice, and I hate sliding around. I figured out a way to slide around to her back, and outwardly looked happy doing everything. Irwin called me twice while I was doing it.

"Is that your boyfriend?" the woman asked during the second call. She was standing right next to me during the call.

"You rock so hard! I just wanted to make sure you knew that you're awesome!" Irwin was saying.

"He sounds very supportive," the Kimono girl said.

"Call you later!" Irwin said, and hung up.

"Yes," I said. "He's my best friend."

"That's sweet," the woman said, smiling.

I putted my Pokégear away and looked at her dead in the eye and said, "He's a clown."

Her smile wavered.

"But don't worry," I said. "We have a healthy relationship...so far. He already calls me too much."

I continued on my work on the ice puzzle as she stood there in silence.

* * *

The second I got to Blackthorn City, I went straight to the Poké Mart to buy ten Max Repels because I never want to see another Golbat in my life.

After I pushed the Kimono girl away, she thanked me and left quickly. I didn't see her running around Blackthorn City later, but then again, I was focused. The Indigo Plateau was within my grasp, and there within was the Pokémon League. Those twits of Kimono girls weren't worth my notice. I only needed to beat Clair, the eighth Gym Leader, to have beaten all the current Gym Leaders of Johto.

I knew she was the eighth Gym Leader because the sign in front of the Gym said: "_Leader: Clair, The Blessed User of Dragon Pokémon."_

There was a guy next to the Gym staring at me accusingly. I smiled to him, but his face remained stern.

"Clair, our Gym leader, is waiting for you," he said seriously. "However, it would be impossible for a run-of-the-mill Trainer to win."

" 'Kay," I said.

I went training in the long grass for a few hours. After a conversation like that, you have to win. In fact, I was so into training, I actually hopped through most of the ditches that went by way and hopped back to New Bark Town. I didn't realize anything was wrong until I started facing Rattatas that were akin to toddler rats.

I really didn't want to meet my mother, so I turned around and went around the long way. I was already leaving Cherrygrove City when I realized that Kitty knew how to fly to Blackthorn and that I was wasting my time.

* * *

I started training Miranda after that.

We were training on this bridge, which overlooked a tame waterfall and a lame river.

"One," I said, "two, three, four..."

Miranda ran in laps over the bridge, sandy brown hair tousled with sweat.

"Sixth lap, Miranda, four more to go," I called out as she ran to and fro.

Miranda ran faster for that end sprint—seven, eight, nine laps coming back and forth. She stopped a few moments in anticipation for that last one, then she got going—run across the bridge, run across again. The water ran in idle currents below her, the waterfall in its steady ease of lightly gushing water. It was a warm summer afternoon with all the appropriate breezes that accompany it. Not the worst day to train Miranda.

I leaned down and gave a high five to my panting Eevee, her eyes bright and shining.

"Good job, sweetheart," I whispered into her satiny fur. "Good job. Now, it's time for the real training to begin."

We started running in the tall grass, the grass tickling my ankles through my socks. Miranda followed me—the wind was blowing through her long fur, and I made a mental note to get it cut later. I raced down steps carved from stone, jumping off a ditch. Miranda followed me, a curve of content flashing through her face.

Suddenly a man with black hair, all standing up, came forward to me. His face was of a sullen, serious variety. He stared at me intently.

"What are your thoughts on raising Pokémon?" he asked seriously, as though this was big news.

"Uh..." I sweated, a mental countdown erupting in my head.

I mindlessly gestured Miranda in front of me.

"A Pokémon battle?" He scowled, and took out a Pidgeot. _Ace Trainer Ryan_, his Pokémon Trainer card sang out.

"Tail whip, Miranda," I said.

Pidgeot swopped to Miranda and hit her with its wings, batting at her fiercely as she tried to keep away. She managed to get out, looking generally unharmed, yet startled.

"Remember what I said, Miranda," I told her, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. When Miranda battled, it always went badly. "Tail whip?"

Relieved, Miranda brought her tail up and whipped it. It was supposed to unhinge our opponent with our absurdly good dance moves, but the Pidgeot didn't look impressed.

"Bite," I said.

"Sand-attack," he said.

Pidgeot shot a layer of sand at Miranda's eyes. She fell back, wincing. Last minute, just before I thought she wouldn't do anything, Miranda lunged forward, holding out for the Pidgeot's throat. Her fangs came down, blood trickling down her jaw's grip as the Pidgeot struggled in a horrible fidget.

"Enough, now," I said quietly. "Let go."

Miranda letted go, blood dripping down her muzzle...I think she pressed too hard there. I regretted letting her do that move. Pidgeot cried out shrilly, blood still leaking from its throat and dripping down to the grass. The other Trainer gritted his teeth hard, glaring at me.

"You think that's acceptable?" he demanded.

"She bit too hard on accident. Wasn't supposed to turn out like that." And then, almost as an afterthought: "I truly am sorry."

The Trainer muttered something to his Pidgeot. Seconds later, Pidgeot came and batted Miranda with its wings with unbelievable speed and savagery, banging her against the ground as she screamed in shock. I bit my lip hard enough that I could taste blood—Miranda, get up, Miranda, _Miranda!—_and sucked in a breath as the Trainer gave me a knowing look, a lock of black hair falling to his eyes. Miranda got up, obviously wounded, though I couldn't tell where exactly she had been hurt. The Pidgeot had fell into Miranda with the swoop of those dangerous wings, tearing at her like the wings were razors.

"Quick, attack—" I gasped—

—Pidgeot shot forward, like an arrow from a bow, and stabbed at Miranda.

Miranda passed out.

* * *

"If I'm the worst Trainer, just tell me," I told Lorcan. "Just tell me if I'm the worst Trainer."

Lorcan drank from his berry juice silently.

"If I'm the best Trainer, just tell me," I added. "Tell me if I'm the best Trainer."

Lorcan continued to drink silently.

"Am I any bad as a Trainer?"

Silence.

"Okay, so am I a good Trainer, then?"

Silence.

"You people suck."

Lorcan looked like he wanted to point out otherwise, but thought better of it.

"Also, stop drinking so much berry juice," I said. "You're going to get diabetes, and that's not something you want on your record."

Lorcan gazed at his juice box critically for a few moments.

* * *

Fuck it, I decided. I was going to go straight to Clair, and if I lost, too bad. My Pokémon would at least gain experience from it. I could always go against her again if I lost. I'll probably forfeit before my Pokémon could get into actual pain.

When I entered the Gym, I noticed that there was a lake of lava in front of me and moving, steel paths to navigate the Gym with. I was instructed by the Gym guide to keep my Pokémon in their Poké Balls because of safety issues. So right off the bat, I knew these people weren't playing.

I got into the first steel railing thing and it jerked violently to the left when I stepped on a button. I held my hand to the railing, trying to catch my breath. Motion sickness swirled around my head. It was the horrible start to a horrible Gym.

* * *

Clair's Gym

Safety: 7/10

Oh, how these people tried. There were actual rules, and steel railings. Everything supposed to prevent the chance of dying by lava. Well, if you were suicidal, there was still a way to jump off into lava and burn to death, but I assume most people are going to try to survive this. So I'm giving this a 7, at least for the safety measures. Most Gyms don't try.

Design: 5/10

Ehhh...halfway decent, I could give it that. It's like they ran out of ideas, so they decided to just recreate Bowser's Castle. I don't know where they even got the lava from.

Gym Trainers/Leader: 6/10

Everyone was pretentious and weak. The first boy I went against said he would show me how hard my first battles with the dragons would be. I then proceeded to defeat all his Pokémon in one hit. It was definitely an omen, all right. And then after that, I told him I'd already met Lance, and you know what he said? "I DON'T BELIEVE YOU." Well, I DID meet Lance, you little boy, and guess what? He was a jackass.

Anyway, enough about that random dude. Some of the Gym Trainers were actually encouraging, and showed maturity—after all, they were all Ace Trainers. Clair herself showed little maturity, and ultimately soured my opinion of the Gym.

Overall Score: 6/10

Right around the average. Oh, joy.

* * *

When I saw Clair, at the end of the Gym, she was standing on what appeared to be a little ring, sort of like the ones for wrestling. A picture of what appeared to be a wolf or bull or whatever was on the black wall behind her and the ring. Clair herself had wavy blue hair put into a ponytail, the kind of hair that lacks a normal looking root color yet everyone is suspicious about anyway. She wore a flashy black cape and tall blue boots. I didn't really pay attention to anything else.

I believed she was Clair and stepped forward.

"I am Clair," Clair said. "The world's best Dragon-type master."

"Then why are you only a Gym Leader?" I asked.

Clair's mouth turned into this straight, angry line, and continued. "I've stayed here at my hometown for various reasons, though I can hold my own against even the Pokémon League's Elite Four. And before you ask more questions, I would like to inform you that Kanto and Johto have the strongest Pokémon League in the world. The other Pokémon Leagues are mere copies of the original."

I said nothing.

"Do you want to take me on?"

Okay, so far, so good, right? She's arrogant, short-tempered, but she's not bad. She seems mature enough right now, all steady and high-minded. It seemed okay. It seemed fine.

"Sure," I said. "I'll take you on."

"Fine," Clair said, her lips curling to a grim smile. _"Let's do this!"_

She took out her Poké Ball and tossed it into the air once. "As a Gym Leader, I will use my full power against any opponent!"

I nodded, because at that moment, I couldn't think of any decent catchphrase to beat hers.

"Hamako, let's go," I said in a low voice. Hamako came forward, as Clair tossed out her huge Gyarados, the Pokémon towering over all of us with a scowl on its face.

Well, that Gyarados got down pretty fast and well.

"Ice Beam!" I shouted out to Hamako, as she directed her attention to Clair's Dragonair.

"Ice Beam!" I ordered again, when Dragonair became frozen solid. Clair looked ill.

"Ice Beam," I said again, yawn caught in my mouth, as Hamako was looking at Clair's second Dragonair.

Clair became paler and paler, until she took out her fourth and last Pokémon, the flush coming back to her face.

"Last Pokémon!" she yelled out. "This is where the real battle begins!"

I looked at Hamako dubiously. She shrugged.

Ten minutes later, Clair lashed out. "You're kidding, right? I'm supposed to win. I've already decided."

We both stared sullenly at her Kingdra, paralyzed, wounded, the works, on Clair's little ring.

_Just keep everything together, Lyra,_ I told myself. _You're going to win...maybe._

Clair used a Full Restore. I felt my confidence waning.

_It'sokayit'sokayit'sokayit'sokay, _I thought, those words coming down my throat like huge gulps of water.

I could feel myself getting breathless, as I watched Pokémon after Pokémon fade away. Miranda, Cinder, Kitty... Maybe I should've forfeited, but I was so close. Clair's face kept changing from triumph to anxiety on every turn.

_Paralyze the Kingdra again..._

I was getting antsy; my heels keep clicking against each other, like a weird kind of dance.

_Paralyze the Kingdra again, use Dragon Rage._

Lorcan drowned the Kingdra in his flames, and the Kingdra fainted on the floor, gone. Clair and I both watched the Kingdra as it writhed in pain, before she slowly brought up her Poké Ball, and soon, the Kingdra was gone, disappearing in a flash of violet light.

"I lost...?" Clair said, speaking finally.

My lips felt glued together. I couldn't speak. Clair and I slowly regarded each other in the silence of her Gym. Her blue eyes radiated fury.

"I won't concede this," she said, her voice sharp. "I might have lost, but you're still not ready for the Pokémon League. You didn't even use six Pokémon."

"Neither did you."

"It's different for me. I'm a Gym Leader; I choose the amount of Pokémon needed for each Trainer at their individual stage. I use six Pokémon for serious battles. This was a serious battle for you, so where were your six?"

"That's not relevant."

"I think it is," she said coldly.

I couldn't believe this. Did she find a way to bother every challenger like this? How was she not fired?

"Well, who the hell cares? If I had one more, it would've been easier for me to win anyway. What are you trying to prove? I didn't come all the way here and fight your Pokémon just to argue with you about it afterwards. Now give me the badge, or I'll go to Kanto and get my eighth badge there. I don't need you."

I didn't even know if it's legal to get another region's badge and use it as your eighth for the Johto Elite Four, but I was willing to try.

"I know," Clair said. "You should take the Dragon-master challenge."

"I'm not sure about this."

"Behind this Gym is a place called Dragon's Den. There is a small shrine at its heart."

This sounded like the beginning of a prank.

Clair continued, "Go there. If you can prove that you've lost your lazy ideals, I will admit you are a Trainer worthy of my badge."

"I don't like this," I said. "Give me the badge now, and rid yourself of me."

"What's that? Is what I asked too much to expect of you?" she snapped.

"How are you a Gym Leader if you aren't strong enough to accept defeat?"

"How are you ready for the League if you're too lazy to do what I ask of you? I know people like you, Lyra. You are unwilling to do work, you are a rotten brat who hasn't worked hard one day in your life...you can't even make yourself act civil for a few minutes. I'll be damned if I let you continue your Pokémon journey."

"So you don't think I'll pass this Dragon-master challenge. Well, I'll prove it to you, a thousand times over if I have to—I defeated you, I won, I'm capable of this goddamn Elite Four that you're making such a big ass deal about, and I don't have to have an award winning personality, either."

I kind of left from there, since I couldn't think of anything else insulting to say at the top of my head. I need to get more smart.


	31. Clair's as Free as a Bird

**Random Moment**

Sometimes, I look at my past diary entries and I know readers will wonder why I was so stupid. Like, the time Petrel gave me the key to rescue the Director at the subway. I actually went down there without any fear that it was a trap and I would get kidnapped myself!

Yeah.

* * *

**...Back to the Story**

I remembered hearing about the Dragon's Den from somewhere—Lorcan must have mentioned it at one point. It was nighttime again, and under the comforting darkness I surfed at the back of the Gym. This was where I found the entrance to the Dragon's Den, sitting on a small patch of land that led to that infamous cave.

"If Clair allows it, her grandfather—our Master—will also," said the elder by the entrance. "You may enter."

How I wished I couldn't.

Even as I thought that, I could feel Lorcan vibrating in his Poké Ball, excited. He had wanted to come here for a very long time. It occurred to me that I didn't know where Lorcan came from.

He could have been bred there from generations of prize Dratini, or he could have been caught here at the Dragon's Den. For all I knew, Lorcan could've come from Unova. I held his Poké Ball in my hand and wished he could tell me. Maybe, once my journey comes to an end, I'll go back to that Game Corner and ask.

The cave had a huge underwater lake in it that I had to surf on with Lorcan. He lacked his usual steadiness, and participated in more flips than usual in the water. We swam until we came to the shrine. I read the sign:

Dragon Shrine

A shrine revering the Dragon Pokémon said to have lived in Dragon's Den.

"Does that include you, Lorcan?" I said. "Did you used to live here?"

Lorcan merely looked at me, and said nothing. I knew he would act impish.

As it turned out, I was at the wrong side of the shrine, and there was no backdoor to the little goddamn hut. So I had to go back on Lorcan and try to get in the other way. I got a call from a guy named Vance at this time. He wanted to battle, back at where he met me. Well, I'd get back to him later. I had a badge to earn.

I entered the shrine. The room I came into had Gyarados carvings artistically placed on two walls opposite of each other, and the floor was dark and wooden, small torches throughout the room providing its minimal light. There were three elders, but the one in purple was clearly our royal.

"Welcome," he said as I approached him. "No need to explain why you came. Clair sent you here, didn't she?"

"I imagine she does this a lot."

"Oh yes, she does. That girl is a handful..."

He sighed. "I am sorry, but I must test you. Not to worry, you are to answer only a few questions. Ready?"

"Sure."

"What are Pokémon to you?"

I started. "Are all the questions going to be like this?" This was going to be awkward and philosophical.

"Very much, yes. So again, what are Pokémon to you?"

"Allies," I said slowly.

"Oh, I understand..." the man said, eyeing my Lorcan behind me. "What helps you to win battles?"

I wanted to say strategy, but realized that I never use any, so I said training instead.

"What kind of Trainer do you wish to battle?"

"Anyone can take me on."

"What is the most important for raising Pokémon?"

"Knowledge."

"Strong Pokémon. Weak Pokémon. Which is more important?"

"Uh...both?" I was conflicted at this question. It really depends, relatively, whether a Pokémon is strong or weak. A weak Pokémon can be a Pokémon that will one day be strong, or it could just be a Pokémon with the wrong genetics for fighting, or...

"Hm... I see... You care deeply for Pokémon. That is very commendable."

"Thank you." _Shut up,_ I thought. Me being a wonderful person has nothing to do whether I deserve the badge or not. The point of the badge is that it shows I won.

"Your conviction is very important. Lyra, don't lose that belief. It will see you through at the Pokémon League."

"My name..."

He smiled. "Lyra's not a very common name, is it?"

"Probably not."

"Didn't think so. Well, Lyra, I've heard of you around. How about that?"

I immediately became nervous, because it never occurred to me that Lance was badmouthing me all over town, which he probably was doing. At least his grandfather seemed to like me. Maybe his grandfather had poor hearing and assumed Lance was speaking good of me, or something.

At that moment Clair bursted in. She came in, all swagger, cape and ponytail swinging. I half expected everything to just fall off of her.

"So?" she demanded. "How did it go?"

She glanced between me and the elder, then said, "I guess there's no point in asking. You did fail?"

"No," I said bluntly. "I passed."

"What?" Clair shifted her feet, all casual. "You passed?"

"Yeah," I said.

_Bite me,_ I thought to that blue haired weirdo.

She looked from me to her grandfather, and the red blush of fury appeared on her face as she backed away. In a few moments, she went from calm to fucking shrieking around the whole place. "THAT CAN'T BE!" she screamed shrilly like a weirdo, jumping with her feet like a ballerina, and Lorcan gave her a bothersome look as her shaking voice echoed around the shrine.

Clair's teeth gritted against each other as she backed further into the wall. "You're lying!" she snarled. "Even I hadn't been approved!""

"Clair!" her grandfather yelled. "This child is impeccable, in skill and spirit. Admit defeat and confer the Rising badge."

"You don't understand," Clair said. "She spammed Ice Beam the entire match."

"Well, at least it was super effective," her grandfather responded. "Do you want me to inform Lance of this?"

At the name of Lance I froze.

"If you inform Lance I will sue," Clair said.

"For what?" her grandfather asked.

"For sexual discrimination." I looked at Clair, and she was dead calm.

"What?"

"For sexual discrimination," she repeated. "I'm going to quit my job. Don't lie about the discrimination, I know everything. I know about the secret training sessions you had with Lance since he could walk and talk at the same time, the favoritism, everything. It was staring at me in the face. Ever since he's been born, I've been kicked to the curb."

I couldn't tell if I respected Clair more or less after this.

"Clair, you were born after him."

"Exactly. I've always been kicked to the curb. Which is exactly why I want to stand up now, because Lance is evil and hardly better than me yet you all act like he's the next Jesus."

Whoa. Deep shit.

Her grandfather laughed nervously. "Sweetheart, I can't telling if you're joking or not."

"No, I'm serious," Clair said. "I want to be as free as a bird. I want to go to college and study math or something weird like that. I'm going to leave you and the rest of my family forever, and you guys can just go ahead and cheer on Lance for eternity. That's what you always wanted, anyway. Someone else can be the Gym leader—I suggest Terrance. He's lazy and needs to learn what having a job feels like."

"What are you saying—" her grandfather started.

She turned to me. "Lyra, here's the Rising badge. And here's the TM for Dragon Pulse. The description of the TM is self explanatory, so I'm not going to read it to you like you're in preschool."

She turned back to her grandfather. "I'm leaving now. If you want to contact me, do it by letter. Put on the 'send to' part the address of the nearest dumpster."

Clair walked out.

Her grandfather looked at me, looking wary. Weirdly enough, there was no concern on his face, even though his granddaughter just ditched him and went off to God knows where.

"Don't tell the tabloids about this."

I became very interested. "What will you give me if I don't tell?"

"A Dratini with Extreme Speed."

"Deal."

It was a female Dratini that I named Twister. I don't know, it just seemed like a good name at the time.

* * *

To distract me more from my apparent interest to inform the media (?) Clair's grandfather told me how to get Lugia. He said that in between Olivine and Cianwood were the Whirl Island, and that there's a huge waterfall deep in the cave there where Lugia rests, in the deep end of the waterfall basin. I need a silver wing to reach that place, which is just great, 'cause I have that. I left the Dragon's Den further convinced of the corruptness of the world.

Wondering if I could teach this new move to Lorcan, I opened the case for Dragon Pulse and found a scrap of paper on the inside.

It said the following:

_If you're headed to the League, go to New Bark Town and surf along Route 27. Your face is telling me you have some unfinished business..._

What the fuck?

I think Clair wants to get me murdered.

* * *

Professor Elm called me.

"Hello, Lyra? How's it going?"

"Fine," I said. It was not going fine. I needed to leave the country; this country is too lame.

"I've gotten hold of something neat. Swing by my lab and pick it up!"

"Okay," I said. "Bye."

"See you later!" He hanged up. You would've thought he would have said more to my rudeness, but nope, just "see ya later."

I flew to New Bark Town and entered his lab. Ethan came to me almost immediately.

"Lyra, did you already collect eight badges?"

I nodded warily, but there was no Marill around.

"That's so cool," Ethan gushed. I've forgotten how annoying Ethan was. "The professor is waiting for you."

I walked over to Elm, Ethan by my side.

"Hi, Lyra! You never cease to amaze me," Elm said.

"Um...thanks?" I said.

"Thanks to you, my research is going great!" Elm said.

"Oh."

"Take this as a token of my appreciation," he said.

I stared at what he gave me—the Master Ball.

"You would think it would look a lot more professional than this," I said, innately screaming at the ugly, garish colors of dark purple and bright pink that made up the Master Ball.

"I'm sure you already know what the Master Ball is used for," Elm said, ignoring me as always. "It's the ultimate Poké Ball and will catch any Pokémon without fail. It's given only to noted Pokémon researchers, but I think you can make much better use of it than I can."

"Thanks," I said lamely. I felt like I was saying that too much lately, and I'm just not a "thanks" person.

"By the way," he said, "We just had a group of beautiful kimono girls looking for you."

I froze.

I was thinking of two things.

One was _ew, get your male gaze out of this, Professor Elm._

The other was, o_h my God, the stalkers are bringing this fucking shebang home._

"Lyra, people are talking about you!" Ethan squealed, cutting off my thoughts. "I heard you helped the kimono girls?"

"Umm..."

"You've been helping all these people!" Ethan squealed some more. "You make me proud to be your friend."

Ethan ran out without ceremony, probably to gossip all of this with Marill.

"The kimono girls are waiting for you at the Ecruteak Dance Theater," Elm said.

"Nice to know," I said.

I studied the table behind Elm, observing the detailed lines of the wood, staring at where the jar on the table met the surface and created harsh shadows. Elm waited in silence for a few moments, then sighed.

"Lyra. If there's anything you need, just tell me. I wish I could do more for you."

"Get me out of this bloody region," I said. "I will think of you for life." Then I added, "I want to go somewhere cool, like Kanto."

"Kanto?" His face wrinkled.

"Forget it," I said. "I was just joking."

I ran out after that, to avoid the chances of seeing somebody else annoying come in.

* * *

I wanted to go to that water source Clair spoke of earlier. I've never been on the news for being murdered before, so I thought that would be pretty exciting. Because I'm a sane, logical person, I went to my room and placed on my computer the note Clair kept inside the Dragon Pulse case. I took the brightest, most eye-catching orange index card I could find, then placed it right next to the note, and drew a huge arrow on the index card that led to the note, with the friendly comment "_IF I GO MISSING/MURDERED" _scribbled at the top of the card.

As an afterthought, I added that the note was written by Clair, the former Gym leader.

Ethan was standing nearby with Marill, though Ethan seemed considerably less annoying than he was two minutes ago and Marill was busy eating peanut butter.

"I wonder what a kimono girl wants from you..." Ethan mused.

"Don't say it like that," I said. "You just make it sound worse."

Ethan shrugged and turned back to Marill.

I turned towards the water, the breeze blowing my hair around.

"Wait, Lyra!"

I turned.

"Where do you think you're going, Lyra?"

"What does it matter, where I'm going?"

"Don't do that," Ethan said weakly. "You scared me."

"What are you talking about?" I said, walking to him. He was probably scared that I was like Orion and could walk on water. It would make him feel self-conscious about himself.

Ethan's eyes widened. "Lyra...I'm not playing around." He sounded like a character from a horrible horror movie or whatever, and the dried ketchup on his face made him look like one too.

"Well, I'm not, either," I said. "Tell me what's up."

Ethan gaped at me. "You don't remember? When you tried to..."

I waited, but Ethan kept gaping at me instead of finishing his sentence. Distaste submerged me.

"I don't understand. What did I try? Ethan, tell me."

Ethan shook his head, looking at my house, looking at Marill.

"Tell me, Ethan. What did I try to do?"

"Nothing," he said hurriedly. "Just don't go near that place."

I shrugged and walked away. Solving mysteries is not part of my job description, either as a Pokémon Trainer or a failing high school student.

* * *

I ended up going back to my mother, because, you know, I was feeling guilty and all that shit. I was missing her annoying phone calls, so I allowed her to save my money up again.

After a night at my mother's place, I headed out to Ecruteak the following afternoon. My Pokémon didn't need me to attend to them, so except for Miranda, everyone stayed in my bag. I looked back at Miranda, and she was holding something in her mouth.

"Ah? Let me see it, sweetheart..."

Miranda happily handed it over. It was pretty yellow flower, large and bright. I placed it carefully in my fashion case and continued my way towards the Ecruteak Dance Theater. It was a dreary, gray sort of day, but the windows of the theater still shone with light.

I was entering the theater when I was bumped right into Pikachu Boy. He had cuts all over his face, and they didn't look self-inflicted. His clothes were wrinkled and soiled with all kinds of random stains, and his face had a wild look to it. I reasoned that his Pokémon probably tried to kill him.

He looked at me for a split second, then he turned towards the theater. "How...? How is this possible? How can I lose to mere kimono girls...?"

"The better question is, how can they lose to you?"

Pikachu Boy's head spun around. "You were watching me, Lyra..."

"I didn't watch the battles, if that's what you're wondering. But I would've reckoned you lost, anyway."

"Yeah, that's right!" he said, his fists clenching his shirt. "I lost! I never thought defeating five kimono girls would be so hard. I got beaten to a pulp..."

"You probably didn't train hard enough, orange."

"I guess." He studied me, up and down. "You must have come here for the same reason, right?"

"I have no idea. They sent for me."

"Maybe they wanted to battle you, too. Don't get cocky just because you defeated Team Rocket. They're insanely strong."

He suddenly laughed, a cruel, sharp one. He stepped back and waved me towards the door. "Go ahead! See if you can defeat them. But I'm not going back. I don't want to see you win."

"Can I at least battle you?"

"I don't want to see that, either."

He pushed me away, then walked slowly aside. Pikachu Boy stood there wallowing in his own teenage angst, then broke into a run into the other side of the street. He almost got hit by a car, but I guess it was worth it.

When I came inside the theater, all the cushions were empty. The five kimono girls stood at the stage facing me. Slowly, I walked to the stage.

"What is this?" I asked. "Judgement day?"

"Welcome," said the leading woman. They weren't girls; they were women. "My name is Zuki. I met you previously in Violet City."

"Hi, Zuki," I said. "What is this for?"

I stood the closest to the steps so in case they decided to kill me, I had a head start to the door. I knew the cops wouldn't care if I got killed, so I was on my own.

"In order to bring back Lugia, we needed someone with the right bond with Pokémon."

"So basically, the strongest."

She slowly nodded.

"We asked Mr. Pokémon to give this mystery egg to whoever showed true potential. The egg was eventually handed from Mr. Pokémon to Professor Elm, and then to you. However, being pure alone will not be sufficient to face the power of this Pokémon. I must test you."

"I understand," I said. "But why did you battle Pikachu Boy before me?" I have to admit, being compared to him even indirectly kind of stung.

"Pikachu Boy?"

"The boy before me."

"Oh. Silver? It was a first generation kind of thing. First generation to not get involved in the streets and become evil. Unfortunately, he failed both the purity test and the battle test, so he is completely out of the running for Lugia. But are you ready? It's your turn now."

It was like the college acceptance process, only weirder and without paperwork.

"Sure," I said.

She spun around in a half circle. "I will test how closely you've bonded with your Pokémon."

* * *

Zuki took out an Umbreon. Sweet and cute looking as it was, I couldn't let it win. I took out Cinder, and Cinder scorched it with flames and shit, and we were doing all right.

"I don't have any Pokémon left," Zuki realized when that Umbreon was gone.

She looked quite heartbroken at the revelation.

"You are quite strong," a second woman said. "You helped me in the Ilex Forest. Or at least your Pokémon did. My name is Naoko, and I'm the one that's not so good at directions."

"Did you ever get a compass?"

"I did, but I lost it because of my sense of directions."

"Ah."

She continued, "My eyes witnessed you defeating Team Rocket when Kurt was in trouble at the Slowpoke Well."

"Then where the hell were you when I called the police? Where were you when I fought the grunts? Obviously, you have Pokémon, so you have literally no excuse. The_ least_ you could have done was bring pillows to Kurt."

Naoko paled. "Uh...um..."

"You are brave, Lyra, and cannot understand cowardice," Zuki cut in. "Understand this trait is lacking in others."

"Yes," Naoko said, who was bitting her lip. "Now allow me to challenge you and your Pokémon."

"No," I said.

"Shut the eff up," Naoko said.

She took out an Espeon. That battle went by fast with less remark.

"How unfortunate for you," I said. "And you were so willing to battle, too."

"I didn't have my full team," Naoko said. "If I did, I would've beat you—"

"Just quiet down, both of you," Zuki said.

Once that was over with, there was another woman to battle, of course.

"You are quite the Trainer," this one said. "I remember you chasing off that Team Rocket grunt from right here. I must thank you for that."

She looked at me expectantly, as though waiting for me to argue, but I didn't say anything.

"Although, I am actually a Trainer myself, and I was just testing you at the time. She who knows the most speaks the least. I am Miki!"

"Hey, Miki," I said. "How did Pika—er, Silver, fail the purity test?"

"He called his Pokémon a piece of shit."

"Oh," I said, nodding.

...I feel super ass lazy and don't want to write anymore, so to be continued, I guess.


End file.
